Fear of Falling
by SomeDays
Summary: It's the Eighth Hunger Games. The Career movement is among them. The stakes are higher than ever before. The tributes are faster, stronger, more intelligent, and more prepared. Winning and surviving has never before been so difficult. "Watch your step, and don't fall down."
1. Shine Bright, Prologue: Part 1

**Chapter 1.**

* * *

"_Find light in the beautiful sea_  
_I choose to be happy_  
_You and I, you and I_  
_We're like diamonds in the sky"_

* * *

**_Shine Bright: Prolouge, Part 1_**

* * *

**Leonerd Mace, 19, District One, Victor of the Sixth Hunger Games**

"Becoming a Victor is neither a reward nor a punishment."

"It's just something that happens to one teenager every year. They fight for survival, the losers die, and the victors survive. That's as far as it goes."

"Us seven, we were merely survivors in the grand scheme of things. I fought to survive, you fought to survive, and, well, we all fought to survive. We were the successful ones and, now, we can live. It's as simple as that."

"So, would you say you're quite impartial towards your victory?" I ask, leaning in towards my subject and at least pretending to appear a little interested. I'm really not. I've interviewed all of these other victors a hundred times before and they always say the same thing. They are dull, lifeless, and, quite frankly, they are just depressing to listen to.

They pretend that our victorship is more like a curse, some go as far to suggest it's worse than death, but I simply can't find anything negative about it. Why must they make something so delightful sound so...disgusting?

Linden Eaton, the victor of the Third Hunger Games, lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "I guess I am." I resist the urge to sigh as I continue to show my bright smile.

My fellow victors are as bland as a martini without an added lemon. I pray for the day that we get someone with a little added _sparkle. __'Please?' _

They call us the fabulous Seven, although some of us-namely me-, are clearly more fabulous than the others. At first, the Capitol saw the victors as someone to hate, to look at with spiteful glares instead of glowing smiles, but all of that changed the year I won. It was almost as if the Capitol suddenly realised the entertainment value which the Hunger Games could bring.

I went from being booed at the tribute parade, having eggs and tomatoes thrown at me, to having a doll with my face on it; all in the matter of weeks. It was insane. It was amazing.

They_ actually_ loved me.

I didn't ask for it. I almost expected myself to react the same way as the others, to completely hate myself for killing innocent kids. I don't. I never have. When my sword pierced the skin of that other kid during the bloodbath and the blood spluttered over my arms, my heart stopped. But I wasn't shocked that I had killed someone. I was shocked because I didn't _feel_ anything. Not a hint of guilt washed over my body, I felt fine, as if I didn't just steal the life of another human being.

At first, I thought I was mad, but I know now that isn't the case. I am perfectly normal; it is the other victors who have clearly lost their minds.

"What about you, Roland, you won last year. How would you describe your victory so far?" I ask.

The good-looking boy from District Two snaps to attention as he looks up at me, his hand nervously pushing his hair back from his face. "Uh, yeah, it's alright," he whispers. "I mean, it has its highs and its lows. I set out and achieved what I wanted to do, I brought honour to my district, did them proud...yeah."

"You volunteered; you were the first volunteer to win the games. Do you regret it at all?"

"No," he says, uncertainty lying in the mist of his voice. I know his true feelings, we all do. He's starting to second-guess himself. God knows why, but at least he's doing a good job at masking it. He at least acts content.

"What advice would you give to the tributes wanting to follow in your footsteps and volunteer?"

Hopefully District One will be sending careers this year, for the first time ever. Ever since I allied with the career tribute in my own games, I have wanted to let my District follow in the footsteps of District Two. We have our tributes selected, and it will be magical. It will be the fourth games since the career movement kicked into place, it is growing, and eventually it will take the games by storm, making them better than ever before.

Districts such as District Ten, Eleven, Twelve, and even District Four, may never follow the career movement. They are still struggling to survive, but if we can get Districts Three, Five, Six, and every other District that wishes to, to follow this movement. The games can turn into something positive. Never again will a kid lose their minds and end up with a broken souls.

Roland's adams-apple bobs as he swallows down his nerves. He has never been very confident in front of the camera, always hiding his face from the journalists who follow him around. Some people shine like diamonds in front of an audience, others fall into the shadows. Much to my own surprise, Roland locks his eyes onto the camera as he prepares to answer my question.

"Watch your back and don't fall down," he says.

* * *

_"Shine bright like a diamond." (Diamonds- Rihanna) _

* * *

**A/N: This is now closed. Enjoy all the same though :)**


	2. Disturbed City, Prologue: Part 2

**Chapter Two. **

* * *

_"Throw on your break lights; we're in the city of wonder,_  
_Ain't gonna play nice. Watch out, you might just go under._  
_Better think twice, your train of thought will be altered._  
_So if you must falter be wise"_

* * *

_**Disturbed City: Prolouge, Part 2**_

* * *

**Aleah Reynold, 15, The Capitol**

It's the final eight of the fifth hunger games, and I know exactly what is coming next.

I have watched these games hundreds of times before. It's my favourite and it produced my favourite victor, Dianna O'neal. She isn't the most universally-loved victor. Most people like Leonerd, because of his show, his looks, and his personality. Others like Thea because she was the underdog who won and she has proven to be a very kind and warm-hearted individual. The general public pay almost no attention to the other victors, but some go as far as 'hating' Dianna. The reason people hate her, and the reason I admire her so much, is about to unfold on the TV screen in front of me.

The beautiful Dianna wakes up in the early morning, before the sun has even edged its way into the sky. At first, it's unclear what she's doing, but all eyes were on her, as she was the only tribute awake at that exhausting time. I watch as she goes over to her supplies and pulls out the carton of soup sponsor's had sent her a couple of days before.

I remember the shock I felt when I first watched this scene, I remember the excitement in my stomach and the grin that threatened to appear on my lips. Dianna takes out a small, blue, bottle of poison. The camera's quickly cut to her two sleeping allies, both favourites to win at this point at the games, before cutting back to Dianna, just in time to see her pour the liquid into the soup and mix it together.

I press the fast forward button after that and watch the next four hours worth of mind-numbing scenes flicker across the screen. When I stop it, it's just in time to watch the first boy die. The District Six boy, who had already managed to kill three tributes, could have won these games, but a single drop of blue liquid, in a spoonful of soup, stopped him. It's a gruesome death, to say the least. Foam bursts out of his mouth as his eyes turn a demon-like red. He screams and gargles in a deafening sound, which gave some of my friend's nightmares for days after watching it. At the time, it may have left me with an ill-feeling in my stomach, but now, as I watch it, I almost enjoy it.

I know it's wrong.

I know I should be disgusted with myself, but I can't help it. Watching the drama unfold before my eyes thrills me. Watching alliances turn on one another excites me, and admiring the perfectly designed arenas slowly becoming coated with a burst of red, satisfies a thirst for blood, deep in my body, which I never knew existed.

I wrap the cotton blanket around my shoulders as I lean back into the fluffy bean bag, letting the comfort consume me.

My father says: 'it takes a special kind of person to lean back and feel comfort whilst watching The Hunger Games'. I wouldn't say I'm special. I'm simply the start of a new generation who are immune to the intensity of all. We crave the madness that surrounds The Hunger Games, and we watch the blood-shed with both eyes open.

There are more of us, of course, there is an entire online community of Hunger Games fanatics; people who watch the games for fun and entertainment, throughout the year, and not just when they have to.

Suddenly, my phone rings, snapping me out of the bubble I'm in. I reach over to it and answer it immediately, without even checking the caller-ID.

"Hello?"

There's a long pause before they answer and, in that pause, I can only hear the rustling of branches outside and the heavy breathing of the person on the other-side. Finally, they let out a large sigh."You're watching the hunger games again, aren't you?" My boyfriend, Trevor, says, disgust clear in his voice.

I swallow down nervously and quickly lower the volume on the TV. "Of course not!" I exclaim. "I told you. I don't watch them anymore."

We have only been dating for two months, but Trevor's something special. He's the gorgeous older boy that every girl my age dreams about. Sure, he can be an ignorant, judgemental, douche-bag at times, but who care about that?

"You're such a bad liar, Aleah," Trevor says. "Look, just come down here and answer the door, will you?"

"Oh," I whisper under my voice as I nervously chew on my bottom lip. "Please say you've only just got there."

"Yeah, Well, like, five minutes ago. Hurry please, it's f*cking freezing."

"Of course, sorry," I say before hanging up.

When I look up at the screen again, Dianna is in tears, but the cameras don't stay on her for much longer. They leave her for a bit and focus back on another tribute. I shake my head. My friends and Trevor will never understand the attachment I have towards these games. They think I'm crazy, and maybe I am, but I know I'm not alone.

I will never stop watching these beautiful games, and I am excited for the Eighth Hunger Games to begin.

* * *

_"Your mind is in Disturbia"-(Distubria- Rihanna)_

* * *

**A/N- **Yeah, you may think I'm a fan of Rihanna, huh? No, not really...not at all actually. Nope. Oops?

Yeah, anyway, this chapter isn't very important. Just wanted to portray how the fans are. Yeah. That is all xD

Anyway, I have the tribute list here!

It was hard to put this together as I had so many amazing submissions (I have no idea how people who get like 100 submissions do this...) and I've had to reject some tributes who I have genuinely fallen in love with, and I hated doing that. Literally, at one point I was tempted to make up a new District...but...yeah, I couldn't do that. So, if your tribute isn't here, believe me, I wish they were. I loved your tribute. It actually pained me not to accept some. But, at the end of the day, I had to choose 24 tributes who were diverse enough and would work well for the story and work well together. Forgive me?

I feel so guilty...gah...

* * *

**Tribute List:**

**District One**

Male:Cedric Licott, 18 (LokiThisisMadness)

Female: Ramsey Belanger, 18 (TitanMaddix)

**District Two**

Male: Blake Warren, 18(JGrayzz)

Female: Tamaryn Alford, 17 (kkfanatic22)

**District Three**

Male: Rigger Kendrick, 14 (ZerotoAero)

Female: Severa Prichina, 16 (TWGnome)

**District Four**

Male: Shadow Mars, 18 (YesMyLordCiel)

Female: Coraline Leighton, 16 (xsakura-blossomsx)

**District Five**

Male: Jax Castell, 18 (cloveallies)

Female: Ella Bratton, 17 (District11-Olive)

**District Six**

Male: Immanuel Guillermo, 13 (kopycat101)

Female: Selicia Nookza, 16 (Vaan Levvy)

**District Seven **

Male: Merrick Levaun, 18 (bobothebear)

Female: Rosemary Valencia, 15 (Froshy)

**District Eight**

Male: Sherwood Decker, 16 (Blue Arch Angel)

Female: Evellyne Russo, 15 (BetterThanRealityFF)

**District Nine **

Male: Winslow Earnest, 17 (ElementalEvolution)

Female: Amelia Lockhart, 16 (hollowman96)

**District Ten**

Male: Gunner Fourier, 18 (nevergone4ever)

Female: Jaela Roper, 13 (M4D TE4 P4RTY)

**District Eleven**

Male: Jem Hoover, 15 (Katrace)

Female: Auberine Simmons, 17 (Violet Teardrops)

**District Twelve**

Male: Kristian Ferals, 17 (Jalen Kun)

Female: Havara Bhatnagar, 16 (W.E.B.P)

* * *

Personally, I love the age diversity I have. Just saying. Also, I hate long A/Ns, so, I'm sorry.

Anyway, I would love to hear people's thoughts on the tributes. Leave a blog review? Maybe? XD The link to the blog is on my profile and there's also a tab for 'Betting Ranks' which is just a lil fun thing and will be added to as the games go on.

Would also love constructive criticism as per usual.

Uh, yeah, that's all!.


	3. Fly, Reapings: Part 1

**Chapter 3.**

* * *

_"Do you see a bluer sky now_  
_You could have a better life now,  
__Open your eyes  
__No one here can ever stop us  
_They can try but we won't let them"

* * *

_**Fly Away: Reapings, Part 1**_

* * *

**Ramsey Belanger, 18, District One Female**

This was what she wanted.

Standing there, having Leonerd pace back and forth in front of her, a small smile fixated on his lips; the whole thing was like a dream come true. He had chosen _her_ to be the first female career representative from District One. It was _her _who was going into The Hunger Games, not any of these beautiful, girly, flirtatious girls, but _her;_ the boisterous girl with enough brothers to drive her insane every second of everyday.

It was time to prove herself to the world.

She wouldn't be put down for being a girl anymore. She would _prove_ that she was just as good as any other man. Never again will her father brush her aside or ignore her. He couldn't.

Mostly, she just wanted him to love her like he loved his sons. She was just as good as them, if not, better. Sure, they had all done great things in their lives, but never before had a Belanger child been brave enough to even consider volunteering for The Hunger Games, but she was, and she was ready.

She had made it this far. Now, she just had to win, and that was something she _knew_ she could do.

Standing next to her, was the man who would soon become her District partner. She had never met him before today, she didn't even know his name, but she _knew_ he would become extremely important to her in the long run. They would become allies, they would fight together, side by side, and when the time came, she would kill him, stab him in the back or slit his throat. One way or another, she _would_ take his life. It wouldn't be easy, but it would be possible, and that is all that mattered.

"You two look perfect," Leonerd said, as he wrapped his arms around the two of them, squeezing them tight.

A grin appeared on her lips. Although she couldn't care less what he thought about her looks, knowing that someone else believed in her as much as she believed in herself was a nice feeling, and it was definitely a rare occurrence. She had proven herself to the most famous Victor in all of Panem; that in itself was something to be proud of.

"Thank you!" Ramsy sang in glee.

Leonerd laughed as he pulled away from them. "Right, you two know the drill, yes? Wait till the tribute has been the tribute to start walking up, maybe even let them start crying a little - it makes it more dramatic - and then, shout, at the top of your voice, 'I volunteer!' Ramsey, if you could maybe do a little hair flick whilst you walk up to the stage or something? That would be great."

Ramsey raised her eyebrow in question. She hadn't realised that the journey up to the stage was some kind of cat walk, and she certainly hadn't realised she was supposed to become a model. "Flick my hair?" she muttered.

"Yes. Is that a problem?" Leonerd asked.

"Yeah, well, no. But, it's just not exactly _me."_

Leonerd laughed. "Oh, darling, no one cares about the '_real you'_. The Capitol wants glam, okay? So give them glam. Now, I have to go. Just, get out there and put on a show. It isn't difficult. I literally do it every single day of my life."

As soon as Leonerd left the room, Ramsey rolled her eyes._ "Yeah, and don't we know it," _she muttered under her breath.

At that moment, a deep and hearty laugh came from the boy beside her.

Ramsey looked up at the boy with questioning eyes, but a smile still remained on her face. "What's so funny?" she asked, trying hard not to join in with the laughter.

He shook his head. "Nothing, now, come on. We should probably go and sign in or something." With that, the two of them began to walk out of the building. As soon they got the front door her soon-to-be District partner turned to her and smirked. "I'm Cedric, by the way, in case you didn't already know."

Ramsey simply nodded her head once and grinned. "I'm Ramsey," she said, before pushing past him and leaving out through the front door. Turning around once more, she saw him stood there with a bewildered expression crossing his face.

She didn't know what he expected her say or do, whether he wanted her to just stand there, fluttering her eyelashes and twirling her hair at him. That wasn't her style, and it would never _be her_ style. She didn't care what Leonerd said, she loved him and all, he was a great guy, but she would only follow his advice if it meant it could save her life. Flicking her hair like a girly idiot, would _not_ save her life.

It could make her look more '_desirable' _to the audience, but she never before cared what people thought about her. Why should she start now?

Suddenly, out of nowhere, someone ambushed Ramsey, almost knocking her off her feet. She was about to attack her attacker, when she realised who it was and, instead of attacking, she just burst into a fit or raging laughter.

"Alaric!" she exclaimed, pushing her friend away from her. "You almost gave me a heart attack! I could have turned full on ninja and beat your arse!"

Alaric chuckled under his breath and nodded. "I'm surprised you didn't, actually, but, come on, we both know who would have won," he winked.

"Yeah," Ramsey whispered, as she looked down at her feet, hiding the smirk which grew on her face. "Me! You heading to the reaping?"

Her friend kissed his teeth and shook his head. "Nah, I thought I'd take my chances and just get thrown in jail instead." The two of them burst out laughing and he gently shoved her. "Of course I am. I'm assuming you're still volunteering?"

She slowly nodded as she glanced up at the clear blue sky above her. "Of course, but, you know, it's no big deal or anything."

"Yeah, right," Alaric whispered, a proud grin spreading across his face. "I guess I'll just see you in the justice building later then?" he asked, bringing her into a squishing hug.

Ramsey nodded. "Yeah, I guess so," she whispered. She grinned as she pulled away from him. "Try not to worry too much, yeah?" she joked.

"Are you kidding? You're Ramsey Belanger, you'll be fine. No one could touch you if they tried," he said, still shaking from his laughter. "You'll be great out there.

What he said made her shine bright with joy. She had finally made it. There was no denying it. Her father couldn't put her down any longer. She wasn't just a weak, useless, little girl.

She _wa_s Ramsey Belanger, and _she _was ready.

* * *

**Sherwood Decker, 16, District Eight Male**

He was happy. He was content.

The world around him carried on moving, The Capitol continued to take the world in their stride, killing anyone who dared get in their way, but Sherwood just lay there, with his eyes closed, remaining oblivious to the fear, poverty, and disasters going on around him. As far as he knew, the world was a perfectly happy place, and he was a perfectly happy man.

District Eight's fortune was growing day by day, things were _slowly_ getting better, but heartache and pain still surrounded him. People were still raped, killed, and they still starved. Everyday, Sherwood would walk down the cold, poverty stricken, streets, but it was as if his eyes were closed. He couldn't see the unhappiness or the fear. He couldn't even see it in his own mother's eyes.

All he wanted was to stay out on that patch of grass until the sun went down and the stars filled the didn't have any further ambitions in life, he just wanted to continue doing what he was doing.

Looking up at the sky, so many questions filled his mind. He loved how it changed through out the day, how it grew darker, how the orange haze appeared in the morning. The sky was so beautiful and so full of mystery. He wanted to know what was up there, how large the universe was, whether there was life outside of Panem or not. He wanted to know so much.

When he went out there at night, he wouldn't sleep a wink, he wouldn't have been able to if he tried; his mind would be so full of so many questions that had no answer, that sleep was an impossibility.

"Hey, kid." Someone kicked the side of his leg, making Sherwood jerk upwards, opening his eyes in an instant. A man in a peacekeepers uniform stood above him. His helmet was off off, but it was replaced with an, equally threatening, anger-filled frown, but it didn't do anything to bother Sherwood. "Move it, the reapings start in ten minutes."

Sherwood nodded as he rose to his feet, brushing the dirt and grass from his pants. As he looked up at the bright, warm, sky, a smirk rose to his face. "You know what? I'd really rather not go. I'd much rather just lie here all day; if that's alright."

The kid liked to think he was free man, that he could do whatever he wanted when he wanted, but that was just a delusion. This society was no place for a free man. The only person in all of Panem who was well and truly free, was the President, but Sherwood didn't want to believe that.

"I don't think you have a choice in the matter," The peacekeeper said, his face so clearly filled with annoyance.

Sherwood shrugged his shoulders and smiled an oblivious smile. "Sure I do."

"Okay kid." The man grabbed him by the collar and began to drag him along. "You're going to the reapings if you like it or not."

As soon as they reached the town square, the peacekeeper threw the boy into the sixteen year old section, right next to Gail; someone he'd really rather not stand next to. Sherwood just ignored him, just like he ignored every other negative or unwanted thing in his life.

However, it seemed like wherever he went, Gail would try to find a way to bring Sherwood down. He had already given him a black eye the day before the reaping, but today, without Sherwood even saying a word to him, Gail spat at his feet.

Sherwood took a step back and cringed in disgust. "That's kinda gross," he muttered under his voice. But he didn't dwell on it. Whenever Gail tried to push him down, Sherwood would just shrug it off and get back to his happy life, filled with incoherent thoughts.

He didn't pay attention to the reapings, he never did. They weren't very high up on his priority list. He just focused on his thoughts.

_'Why do they dress that way?' _he thought, as he watched the District Eight Escort walk back and forth across the stage. It really baffled him how they dressed in such bright, flamboyant, colours. _What statement were they trying to make? Would he be wearing stuff like that if he lived in The Capitol? How different would his life be? _

He barely heard his name being called. At first, he thought it was just Gail being an idiot, calling his name for no reason, but when he heard an "Oh," leave Gail's mouth, he knew that wasn't the case.

He turned his head to face Gail, and Gail looked back at him with an expression so full of confusion and shock.

"What is it?" Sherwood asked absent-mindedly.

But Gail didn't answer, instead, the same peacekeeper who had dragged him to the reapings in the first place, came over and tapped him on his shoulder. "That's you, isn't it, kid?"

Sherwood looked up at him and raised a brow. "What?"

The peacekeeper rolled his eyes before he grabbed him by the arm and began dragging him up to the stage.

That was when Sherwood realised; he had been reaped. He was going into The Hunger Games."Oh."

At first, he didn't really know what to make of that fact. He never thought this would happen to him. The world was too good for this to happen. _Wasn't it? _

'_Just smile, Sherwood,' _he told himself. '_Just keep smiling'._

And he did. He smiled until his face ached.

* * *

**Coraline Leighton, 16 District Four Female**

'This is what I want', she reminded herself, as she walked down the sandy streets of District Four.

Today was the day District Four would be getting their very first volunteer.

Today was the day they would_ finally_ repair their relationship with the Capitol and make everything bright and beautiful once again. Today _was _the day.

It had to be done, and it was all down to her.

There was an awful lot of pressure on this young girl's shoulders. Today would be the day which would change her life forever. She would go from a normal, everyday, young girl, to a tribute, all in a matter of seconds.

She only had to say those two words and everything would change. It sounded so much easier than it was.

She could barely remember the days when the sun shone through the murky clouds, when the water was clean, and the fish were fresh and healthy. District Four had changed so much since then. Now, everyone was miserable. People were dying every day. Small children were being forced to eat food which would only make them ill.

It was wrong. It was disgusting, and they had to find a way to make it right again.

They had tried everything else. Now, they had to try something different, something which would show the Capitol that they were on _their _side, that they weren't the District they used to be, and that they were surely a force to be reckoned with in the games.

They would no longer be another bloodbath district.

They would have a victor.

Coraline knew she could win the games. She had the looks, the personality, and the agility, of a true victor.

'_I'll be fine', _she told herself, _'I'll be more than fine; I'll be perfect'._

Around her, people walked with their heads down, trying to stifle their worries and their cries.

Some of the younger children surrounding her _were_ crying, worried about their first reapings.

She vividly remembered that feeling; the feeling you had when you knew you were no longer safe, that your name was among the thousands of names in that bowl. Back then, the simple idea that the escort could brush their finger over your piece of the paper, could have brought a stinging amount of fear to her young heart, but a lot had changed since then. She was still afraid, but for completely different reasons.

As she walked among the crowd, Coraline stood out by a mile.

She walked with her head held high and a smile plastered on her face. She seemed confident, prepared, like she was ready to change the course of history. But, deep inside, she was freaking out.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" her brother, White, asked her, as he fixed the collar of his shirt.

She slowly nodded her head. "Sure, I mean...what's the worst that can happen, right?"

White stopped in his tracks, as he stared at his younger sister with worry-filled eyes. "Uh, death?" he spat. "You do know people _die_ in the games, right? Oh, please say you do."

Coraline rolled her eyes as she continued to walk, flicking a lock of blonde hair over her shoulder. "Of course I do, I'm not stupid."

Her eldest brother nodded his head slowly as he quickly caught up with her again. "Just-just making sure," he whispered. "I guess we'll see you later then?"

"Yup," Coraline said, popping the 'P'.

Her two brothers stood there awkwardly for a moment, but Coraline pretended not to see them and their sad expressions. She couldn't think about them right now. She had to think of herself, that was the most important thing at that moment. Finally, her brothers backed away, towards their own sections, leaving Coraline all alone.

She stood with a bright smile on her face as the Mayor went through his usual spiel. He read the treaty of treason in a loud, clear, voice and, as always, he finished with the words. "The execution of one of our former rebels shall take place after today's reapings, to show the world that District Four no longer deals with our rebel pass. No rebel shall ever live a life of freedom in _our _District."

Coraline bowed my head at those words, District Four had never been a District to glamorise executions, if they had to be done, they were done in private, but these were desperate times and they had to take drastic measures. They had to do anything they could to restore District Four's fortune.

"Now, please welcome to the stage, District Four's mentor for this year, the beautiful Thea Gardina and our cherished escort, Damien Reynold."

Nobody welcomed them. Nobody cheered. Nobody smiled. Not even Coraline, for, in that moment, her head was down as she sieved through the foggy thoughts which filled her mind. She knew what she had to do. Now, she just had to do it. She had to remain positive and smile.

"Ladies first," the escort announced. Coraline sucked in a deep breath, as she readied herself. She could do this. It would be fine.

"Princhina Kerra!"

A cry echoed the town square as a girl stepped out of the section infront of her. This was it; her time to shine and say those two words. She couldn't back down now. She had to be brave. This wasn't just for her anymore. This was for the whole District.

She had to.

"I volunteer!"

In that moment, everyone in front of her turned their heads and looked at her with faces full of shock and confusion. The girl who had been reaped was now on her knees, crying her heart out, and thanking the air around her, clearly unsure of who had saved her life, but it wasn't _her_ life she was saving. It was all of District Four's.

Coraline swallowed down her nerves before stepping out of line. From that moment, all of Panem's eyes were on her, and she didn't know what to do or what to say. Then, she remembered, _this was what she wanted._

It was time to show the world who she was, who District Four was.

It was show time.

* * *

**Merrick Levaun, 18, District Seven Male**

All he wanted out of life was happiness, and he was proud to say that he had _plenty_ of that.

He was fortunate enough to live each and everyday with a smile on his face. He was fortunate enough to be able to forget about the horrors in the world and have _fun_. He had a family, he had friends and, most importantly, he had _hope._

Even in a world so full of hate, war, and fear, he _still_ believed in hope, and he _still_ found a way to remain positive.

He knew about the evil in the world, but he chose not to focus on it. Life was far too short to be brought down by simple things. He wanted to be happy and bright. So, he was, it was as simple as that.

"What should we do later? after the repings?" he asked.

He walked down towards the town square, with his friend, Garrett, by his side. The two boys clearly stood out among the crowd. Whereas other people were trying to comfort each others worries and fears, these two were just focused on getting today over and done with. They were smiling bright without a care in the world.

After today, they would be free from the threat of the games, and that feeling alone, was the best feeling in the world.

"It's our last reaping, we should celebrate!" His friend wrapped an arm around Merrick's shoulders and threw a punch into the air.

One particular elderly woman shot the boys a disgusted look, but they both decided to ignore it and carry on.

Merrick raised his brow suspiciously, but just continued to smile. "Celebrate _how_?"

Garrett smiled a mischievous grin before bursting out into a fit of laughter. "Who cares? Today,my friend, we will finally be free from these stupid reapings!"

Merrick chuckled, shaking his head. At this rate, The Hunger Games would be the least of their worries. "Alright, alright. I'm sure whatever you've got planned in that brain of yours will be fun."

"Of course it will!"

When they arrived in the town square, it was a few minutes past twelve o'clock and the mayor was already stood on stage. The two boys laughed as they snuck into line, their heads held low as to not get into trouble. Still, one of the peacekeeper noticed them and shot them a warning glance to which Merrick just shrugged his shoulders in an innocent, laid back, manner. They would just have to make sure they were out of there as soon as possible after the reaping. It wasn't the first time they were late to an event like this one and they were by no means the only ones.

"First, we start with girls," the escort announced. She didn't seem the least bit interested. District Seven had had the same escort for the past eight years, and it was obvious she was tired of this job. Merrick couldn't even imagine what she was like when the cameras weren't on her. He didn't really_ want_ to know, he could imagine it being quite _scary_. "Rosemary Valencia!"

Seconds ticked by into minutes, and nobody moved. It wasn't uncommon for kids to skip the reapings and just not turn up. There wasn't any sort of count or register in the lower Districts, so a lot of people just decided to risk it. At first, Merrick thought that was the case with this girl, but then a high-pitched cry echoed from one of the family members, and he knew that wasn't the case.

The Escort announced the girl's name again and there was finally movement in one of the middle sections.

The fifteen year old girl slowly stepped out of the crowd. Tears dripped down her cheeks, but she didn't sob, she was silent. She made constant effort brush the tears away from her face with the back of her hand, but it didn't do much to help. She looked like she was trying to remain brave. Whether it was for the sake of the cameras or for the sake of her family, Merrick did not know, but it was respectable.

"Now, for the boys!"

The green-obsessed woman tiptoed across the stage to the other bowl. People around him looked down at the ground, anticipating the worst. They were the ones most at risk of being reaped, this being their final year. The atmosphere around him had never been so intense before now.

"Merrick Levaun!"

As soon as his name was called, it seemed as though the whole world had abruptly stopped turning. He felt people stare at him, but he just stared forward, as if looking into an empty void. For a long time, no thoughts passed through his head and it was almost as if someone had glued his feet to the face of the earth and he was unable to move or react in anyway.

"Wh-what?" That couldn't have been his name, could it have? Had he really been reaped for The Hunger Games? Was he really the one chosen to be thrown into a fight to the death?

_Him?_

Eventually, his instincts kicked in and he shakily began his journey forward. His feet moved, but his mind did not. He could not think clearly. It was almost as if he wasn't in control of his own body. Then, suddenly, he found himself tripping over his own feet.

The notion of almost landing face first on the concrete woke him up slightly. He couldn't allow himself to make a fool of himself anymore. He had probably already made the entirety of Panem roll their eyes in disgust. He couldn't set himself up for failure; not now.

This was his life now, and he had to make a good impression one way or another.

He had to return home somehow. He wasn't ready to just lie down and die.

* * *

_"We just fly away from here  
Our hopes and dreams are out there somewhere"_

(Fly Away From Here- Aerosmith)

* * *

**A/n: **

Yeah, that was not in first person ((casually stating the obvious)). Yeah, I tried to write in first person, after writing, like, two povs, I realised how much I sucked at it. I guess I can do it when it's my own character, but with other people's characters, I feel like I'm just butchering them in first person. So, everyone, say hello to third person!

I hope you don't mind too much, it's better than me struggling, right? But, that's why this took a while, I had to rewrite things and yeah...ugh.

* * *

**_Questions!_**

**_What are your thoughts on each POV?_**

**_Favourite/ Least Favourite? _**

**_Would you ever consider Volunteering for the Hunger Games?_**

* * *

_If you could all go check out my lovely friend's, Violet Teardrop's, story? It's about Cato. It's called If Tomorrow Comes. It can be found in my favourites. Go go go! :}_

_AND, my other lovely friend, Jalen, made some pictures of some of these lovely tributes, links to them can also be found on my bio! I believe he did Jaela, _Amelia, Evelynne, Rosemary, Kristian, Merrick, Ella and Tamaryn.

_Okay, that is all, byee! :}_


	4. Fire, Reapings: Part 2

**Chapter 4.**

* * *

"I got fire under my feet  
And I feel it in my heartbeat  
You can't put out all these flames  
You can't keep me down in my seat"

* * *

**Fire: Reapings, Part 2**

* * *

**Ella Bratton, 17, District Five Female **

Shouting filled the Bratton house the morning of the reapings, causing Ella to let out an exasperated sigh.

She had spent the last few weeks waiting for this day to come. It was inevitable, and now, that day had finally come.

The only thing Ella was certain of anymore- the only thing she had ever been certain of- was that her life was filled with uncertainty. She could wake up one morning and be told one thing and then, the next, she could be told an entirely different thing. It had become the norm now, and she had almost come to expect it.

She threw her legs out from under her warm, tartan, covers and pulled the suitcase out from under the bed. It was still mostly packed; she hadn't managed to fully unpack since she moved back in with her mother. She was starting to wonder whether or not she should just keep it packed for the long run. It would make it a whole lot easier.

A sharp scream erupted from downstairs, and Ella just rolled her eyes in irritation. "_Stupid," _she spat under her breath, taking an outfit out of her suitcase and plopping it on her bed.

It didn't take her long to get changed from her loose pyjamas into her new outfit and, once she had brushed a comb through her hair, she was marching out of her room.

"What are you doing?" her younger sister asked. Kennedy was stood by her own bedroom door with her dressing gown still wrapped around her body.

"They're fighting," Ella said, jerking her thumb towards the downstairs area.

Her younger sister chuckled. "You don't need to tell me that." She shook her head. "But what are _you_ doing?"

Ella screwed her face up before turning on her heal and heading towards the staircase without saying anything, only to find a cool hand pulling her back. "Don't- Ella- don't do anything, you'll only make it worse." Kennedy said.

"I don't know about you, but I'm not being thrown around again, not this time," she snapped.

"You don't know that." Kennedy's grip slowly loosened on Ella's arm. She had always seen her parents in a more positive light; standing up for them when she could, but still, Kennedy was wise enough to keep her distance. No one got too close in this family; no one except the two sisters. Kennedy was the _only _person Ella could truly rely on.

Ella gave a half-hearted smirk which was full of so much bitterness towards her parents. Bitterness her sister never seemed to have to such an extent. "Oh, I do." Then, Ella pulled her arm away from Kennedy and she marched downstairs.

As she stepped down the last few steps, she heard the front door slam and she saw the man storming down the street. Ella had never even bothered to learn his name; whenever he had said it, it went straight over her head. She supposed it didn't matter now. The poor man had probably seen himself becoming a part of the family, becoming her _stepfather _and her mother's husband, but that would have never happened in this family. Not when it was her mother's mind he was toying with.

"What the f*ck was that?" Ella said.

Turning around, she saw how the room was a mess, shards of glass scattered across the floor. It was clear that some pillows had been thrown during the dispute. Her mother was shaking with extreme anger as tears glassed her eyes.

She looked up at her daughter with a spiteful glare just as Ella dropped down the last step of the stairs. "Right, you and you're sister are going to your father's, right now!"

Ella's eyebrows creased together as a feeling of both pure disbelief and anger washed through her body. "It's the reapings today," she said matter-of-factly, whilst her fists clenched by her sides. She was _done_ with being see-sawed back and forth, she had been done with it for the past seventeen years, but she would never just deal with it, and she made sure her mother knew that.

"Does it look like I care right now?" her mother asked.

Ella rolled her eyes and walked out the door, the words "of course not," leaving her mouth in a whisper as she left. _Why would her mother care? _She never cared about anything and that was exactly the reason Ella kept her at arm's-length.

She stormed down towards the town square, she would be early for the reapings, but she really didn't care. She could go down and bother some of the other girls, like she usually did, whilst everyone else would hang around her, wanting to be her friend. She found it quite laughable really, she could be mean to anyone and everyone, and people would still cling by her side.

Entering the main part of town, where people were hanging out pre-reapings and buying drinks for their post-reaping celebrations, she gave the world a bitter stare, not caring who she was looking at.

"You look great today, Ella," someone said as she passed them. She didn't care to see who it was. She just wanted to get to the town centre and wait.

"Yeah, I know, whatever," she muttered, waving it off with the back of her hand. She didn't have time for other people. She didn't care for their ass-kissing tendencies. _Why should she?_ If she didn't know them or didn't care for them, why should she give a sh*t about what they had to say? As far as she was concerned, she was on her own in this world, with only her sister to have her back.

She stopped in her tracks when she reached the town square. Only a fair few were gathering on the outskirts of the bordered-off sections, waiting for the reapings to start.

With her face set in a hard line, she wandered over to the side and took a seat. She then spent the next hour enjoying her time alone; with no one to bother her.

That was the way she liked it, but soon enough, her 'friends' would come along and ruin the silence.

* * *

**Jaela Roper, 13, District Ten Male**

Leaning up against the splintering fence, Jaela looked out to the field of livestock.

Usually, she would have been working every second that she could, out in that field, sweat pooling down her face as the sun scorched above her, threatening to burn her pale skin, but not today. She wouldn't work until the reapings were over, all being well. Everyone of reaping age got the day off the fields, but Jaela knew she would end up working the afternoon shift one way or another. She always did, but she was fine with that. She liked doing whatever she could to help her family and help the district.

She watched as the cows wandered aimlessly in circles over the sickly-green grass, as the workers sprayed nutrients on the soil in an attempt to fix the roots. The vegetation still wasn't as green and as healthy as it should have been, but at least they had livestock again, and their numbers only seemed to grow. District Ten had started to show prospect in the last few years. They had a chance of returning to their pre-war conditions- or, at least, that's what her family told her. Jaela hadn't been around during the peace and she had very little memories of the war itself.

She only remembered destruction, hunger, and despair.

Those things pretty much summed up today's Hunger Games. Yet, by some means, The Hunger Games were meant to 'keep the peace'. Somehow, she wasn't convinced.

Jaela raised her hand over her eyes to block out the ray of sunshine which peaked over the clouds.

In all honesty, however much she _wanted _to work today, she was quite glad that she wasn't, not in this sizzling heat. It was also quite relaxing to just have some alone time and not have to worry about anything else. She much preferred to be in her own company. For once, she could feel like a normal thirteen year old.

Suddenly, a blur of excitement rushed past Jaela, dragging her by the arm. For a moment, Jaela was confused and she opened her mouth in protest, but when her eyes focused, a smile spread across her face. It was only her energetic, larger than life, friend.

"You need to go to the reapings, my friend!" Robin said, wagging her finger in Jaela's face.

"Don't you as well?" Jaela asked, her voice barely a whisper. "What are doing here?"

Robin stopped in her tracks and turned on her heal. "I'm here to get you, obviously! It's only your second year, you _clearly _need my help." She gently poked Jaela's face, making her rise a brow.

"Robin, you're a year older than me; not twenty!" Jaela tried hard not to laugh, but just being in her best-friend's presence could bring a tickling feeling to her stomach. Jaela hardly spoke to anyone else, so it was nice to have a friend who could bring out a side of her no one else was ever able to see. A lot of the time, it seemed like Robin and her family were the only people in the world she _could _talk to.

Robin smirked. "Trust me, you'll understand in a year's time." She then reached up and patted Jaela's head jokingly before walking away, expecting Jaela to follow.

"You're mad," Jaela said with a slight laugh.

"Don't I know it!" Robin called, without looking behind her. "Now come along, you don't want to be late!"

Jaela chuckled lightly before jogging off after Robin. They remained in a steady jog until they reached the town square. It was already jam-packed full of people of all different ages and it was easy for the two girls to get lost in the crowd. It seemed like everyone in District Ten had received the 'tall gene', all except Jaela and Robin, who were mice compared to the adults they had to weave between.

As they made their way through the crowd, Jaela remained silent whilst her friend was waving to everybody and anybody, greeting them all as if they had been friends for years. Jaela just kept her head down and her mouth shut, not wanting to communicate with any of these strangers.

"This is me," Robin said, stopping by the fourteen year old section. "You know where you're going right?"

Jaela smirked. "You know I did this last year too, right?"

Robin grinned. "Just making sure," she said with a wink. "I'll catch you later."

"Okay." Jaela then walked up to the thirteen year old section.

Looking behind her, she could see her family among the crowd. Her older brother stood next to her parents, his brown hair only slightly tidier than it usually was. The two of them made eye contact and he gave her a slight wave which she returned with a small smile on her face. This was his first year _out _of the reapings. He was finally free from The Hunger Games and it was obvious to everyone around them that he was quite relieved about that, but Jaela still had five years to go.

She tried to not worry too much about it. She tried to remain calm, but even for a girl like her, she couldn't help but feeling slightly nervous.

"Hello District Ten!" the escort exclaimed. Her voice was so high-pitched that it caused Jaela to cringe and it made a shiver run down her spine. "As always, ladies first!"

Jaela glanced shyly to the girl next to her, who was shaking like a leaf. She was worried for a moment that this girl was going to explode.

"Our female tribute for this year is...Jaela Roper!"

Perhaps it should have been Jaela exploding. _She _was the the one chosen.

She took in a deep breath as she tried to calm her worries. She had to remain calm, and she was always so good at staying calm in difficult times, but, at that moment, her stability was tested.

She began to walk up to the stage, keeping her eyes locked to ground. If she was to look up at the sorrowful faces around her, she was scared she wouldn't have been able to keep up her composure. Realistically, this was a death sentence for her. There was no way she'd be able to survive. She was only thirteen! But she couldn't let herself dwell on her imminent death.

She had to focus on making it through today, without worrying about tomorrow.

Her bottom lip trembled, but she immediately sucked it back in.

Jaela wasn't about to just give up, though the odds were stacked against her.

She would fight, she wouldn't sob.

She wouldn't be _that _little girl. Somehow, she would find the power to remain calm.

* * *

**Cedric Licott, 18, District One Male**

The emotions were high all around.

Nerves, anticipation, and excitement, all rolled into one ball of energy which pulsed around his body, forcing him to jog on the spot before the reapings.

It was finally time for him to stand up with pride for his District. He'd help lead them to victory once more and the Capitol would learn to love them with their whole hearts. He would kick-start a revolution which would only bring the District closer to the Capitol. Soon, District One will win The Hunger Games year after year. District Two would simply be a forgotten threat.

Leonerd really couldn't have chosen a better man for the job. Cedric wasn't a proud rich kid, he had lived the rough life and learnt to deal with the hardships, but he also had this inexplicable charm which would certainly woe the Capitol and build up the sponsors. That was something his District partner clearly had to work on. He was already one step ahead of her in many ways.

"Good luck son, you will be amazing out there," an older man said, as he came over and placed a hand on his back.

Cedric gave a large, polite, smile and bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you sir, I will surely do my best to make you proud."

"I don't have a single doubt," the man said. He then turned around and walked away; towards a family of two young girls. Last year, those children would have been crying with fear, but not this year; not when everyone was as safe as safe could be.

Cedric's friend, Tanner, wandered over and leant against the wall beside him. "You're actually doing this then?" he asked with a chuckle. "I can hardly believe it."

Cedric smirked, "yup," he said, not even bothering to glance at his well-dressed friend.

Another man, about the same age as Cedric slowly approached the two boys with his nose stuck in the air. "Good luck- I guess," he muttered.

Cedric glared at him for a moment, before a smirk slowly grew on his face. These 'career-wannabes' were so jealous of him that it was quite hard for him to contain his laugher.

"Right,"he said, not caring if he came across the least bit rude.

"Dickhead," Tanner stoop up from the wall and went to stand right beside Cedric. He was wearing clothes which were clearly imported from the Capitol, shiny black shoes, a deep purple waist coat and well-made beige jeans. It almost made Cedric roll his eyes, but he chose not to. He was still his friend, even if he came from a completely different walk of life than Cedric did. "Put it this way, you'll have your own pick of women when you get back," Tanner said, giving a mischievous wink.

Cedric's eyes lit up at that remark and he chuckled, slapping Tanner on the shoulder in a friendly gesture."Aint that right."

"Is you district partner hot?" his friend asked.

Cedric smirked as he nodded. His eyes glanced over to where Ramsey was stood, she was smiling brightly with a couple of friends, showing that she did have some sense of humour hidden deep inside her. "Definitely, but, I don't know, she's different to other girls. Hard to get, I guess, but I'm not going in there for women. I'm going in to kill them."As those words left his mouth, Cedric couldn't help but feel awkward. Killing wasn't an idea which gave him pleasure, far from it, but he knew that would have to happen, and he was prepared to do what needed to be done.

Tanner shifted uncomfortably as his face contoured. He had never trained and so never really understood the whole concept behind it. It caused an awkward tension to spread between them, neither boy knowing what to say to other.

"Yeah..."Tanner muttered, under her breath.

Eventually, the doors of the justice building flew open, saving the two boys from the awkward silence. The mayor walked on stage with Leonerd and this year's escort either side of him. All three seemed happier than they had ever been before. This year, District One would come home victorious, there was no doubt about it.

"Hello everybody!" the escort chimed into the microphone. "I am Petal, this year's lucky Escort! And, because of the rules, I am inclined to do the reapings properly, but if your name is called out, I shouldn't worry too much," the lady said with a wink.

The woman looked ridiculous, and that was putting it lightly. She was bright pink from head to toe, her skin was tattooed different colours and her hair must have had five-hundred braids in it.

The reapings went as smoothly as stated. A girl's name was called and then Ramsey volunteered. She didn't flick her hair like Leonerd had asked of her and he could see the disappointment flash over his face and, for a moment, it seemed like he had a twitch as he was trying to remind her to flick her hair by moving his head in a 'hair-flick' motion. Cedric had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing at that.

Soon, it was time for Cedric to do his apart. A boy stood behind him placed a hand on Cedric's shoulder and a grin spread across his face. He was_ so_ ready for this. The other boy's name was called and Cedric was just itching to volunteer, but he reminded himself of what Leonerd had said. _'Put on a show'._

So, he waited. The boy began to walk up as he nervously looked around for the volunteer who would save him. When he thought the boy was on the brink of tears, Cedric's hand shot up and it seemed like the whole world sighed in relief. It made him feel powerful when people started to cheer, he walked up to the stage, grinning at Ramsey and receiving a nod of approval from Leonerd.

In that moment, everything seemed perfect. He had worked hard for that moment and he was excited. Things would be hard in the next few weeks, that would be a given, but he was prepared and he was pumped.

He stood on stage next to his district partner and grinned. Together, they would make District One the proudest district in all of Panem

* * *

**Kristian Ferals, 17, District Twelve Male **

The sheer amount of kids around him was enough to make anyone's nerves rattle.

Kristian was by no means scared. He was Kristian Ferals, why on earth would _he_ be _scared?_

But he couldn't quite shake away that unnerving feeling which entered the pit of his stomach. Year by year, their numbers dwindled. Two kids of reaping age would go off and die and, every year, the size of the town square seemed so much larger and so much emptier.

Other Districts had up to 100 kids in each section, but not in District Twelve. In his section alone, there were only twelve males and Kristian knew them all by name.

Being at the centre of such a terrible war, brought the district closer together, but really, they had no other choice but to look out for one another. Feed the hungry, shelter the poor, anything to make sure their district wouldn't just fade away into the darkness.

Even after the war, the water was unclean; the air was filled with toxins. Sometimes, they still had to wear masks over their faces to protect them from the chemicals floating around, but not today.

_Never _today.

Miraculously on the day of the reapings, the air would be as clean as it was before the Capitol dropped those horrendous bombs. His friend, Samuel, would often comment on how suspicious that seemed, but Kristian just shrugged his shoulders at that. He wasn't interested. He much preferred to focus his mind on the fun things in life than think about everything else. Everything else just depressed him.

Kristian allowed a smirk to flood his face. What was he thinking? He had nothing to worry about. "How about we pay a visit to the mayor later, if you know what I mean?" Kristian winked, as he looked over at his friend, grinning like a mischievous lunatic.

Samuel looked up at him as he raised a brow. "You don't mean 'borrow' from him again, do you?"

Kristian chuckled softly. "What else would I mean?"

Samuel nodded, his glasses bobbing up and down on top of his nose as he did so. "Maybe we should survive the reapings first?"

"We survived the last five reapings; we'll surely survive this one. Stop your worrying." Kristian whispered, giving his friend a little playful shove of the arm.

"I don't know about that. There's approximately a one in a fifty chance of one of us being reaped. That doesn't sound like good chances to me."

Kristian gave a big, over-dramatic yawn, barely covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "Sorry, did you say something?"

Samuel smirked, gently elbowing him in the side. "Arsehole."

"You just need to grow a pair dude. Otherwise, you're going to end up like one of those crying twelve year olds." Kristian stood up, placing his hands firmly on his hips. He suddenly had the urge to run laps around the justice building. He was so full of lightning energy that just begged to be burned. If he calculated his time correctly he would be back here before the reaping even began. Kristian shrugged his shoulders and looked back at his friend once more. "What do you say then?"

Samuel shook his head as he also stood up, not saying a word to his friend. Kristian took that as a yes and kept a small mental note of that. He would plan the specifics later. Yet again, it would be flawless, just like it was the time before and the time before that. His plans never failed and the 'victim' never knew what hit them.

"I think it's time you two boys got in line," a peacekeeper said, slowly approaching the boys.

Kristian opened his mouth to say something back at the peacekeeper; something along the lines of 'why don't you get in line?' but before he was able to, Samuel grabbed his arm and dragged him away, almost as if Samuel knew what he was going to say. "You're going to get yourself killed one day, I swear."

Kristian smirked, but didn't say a thing. He really didn't care if he got in trouble, he would continue to do these reckless things and nothing Samuel or anyone else would say, would change that about him. Doing these things was better than facing the alternative.

As soon as the escort stepped on stage, Kristian could tell she really did not want to be there. District Twelve hadn't been able to sustain an Escort for more than one year. They always quit as soon as their initial contract ran out and the Capitol needed to drag someone else in. It just seemed like they gave up on District Twelve as quickly as their tributes did.

District Twelve had had precisely one tribute that had made it past the final twelve and that was mainly because everyone else had dehydrated and burnt to death. That tribute didn't even need to fight anyone until the finale. But, even then, she proved that District Twelve did not make fighters. One of the youngest, weakest, tributes was able to overpower her.

"I guess we start with the girls, right?" the escort says half-heartedly. She shrugged her shoulders before stalking over to the girl's reaping bowl.

"Havara Bhatnagar?"

When no one stepped forward immediately, the new escort raised her brow as she seemingly re-read the piece of paper countless of times. "Uh, did I pronounce that right? Bhatanager? Bhatnagar?"

Finally, a girl from the sixteen year old section stepped out shaking her head with a persistent scowl on her face. _At least she didn't cry or cause a scene; that_ was an improvement from last year.

As soon as Havara joined her on stage, the escort made her way over to the boy's reaping bowl. It was almost as if she was trying to get through this as quickly as she possibly could.

It all went so fast that it was almost as if it was a blur, Kristian just wanted to leave, go home, and start on his plans for tonight.

But he wasn't going to be _going _home anytime soon.

"Kristian Ferals!"

He was going into The Hunger Games.

Just like that, the energetic Kristian Ferals was out of breath.

That... That wasn't supposed to happen. That wasn't a part of his plan. It wasn't supposed to be _him_. He only had one year left, and then he wouldn't have to be a part of these reapings anymore, he would have been free from the threat The Hunger Games had over him.

The Hunger Games was now no longer just a threat, it was a reality. He was going to be that kid on fighting for his life in front of millions of spectators. He was going to the arena. It was real. _He could die_ and, for once, Kristian was scared.

_He _didn't want to die. He was only seventeen years old, he still had time. He still had dreams that had yet to come true, a life he hadn't had chance to live to its fullest. He wouldn't just allow the Capitol to snatch that opportunity away from him.

Kristian gave a slight shudder as he tried to catch his breath back. He sucked in a deep breath of air as he pushed his way through the other seventeen year olds.

If he was going to have any shot at winning, he was going to have to work hard for it; he knew that. He would have to make it happen. He couldn't allow himself to show this fear which threatened to suffocate him. He had to appear _strong_.

He had to become that person District twelve had been waiting for, someone who had the potential of returning home.

With his fists clenched and his lips curled into a smile, he overlooked District Twelve.

This couldn't be the last time he saw the muddy faces of the minors, or the comforting faces of his friends of family. He _would _see it all again. He had to believe he _could _do it.

After all, there was a first time for everything.

Who says District Twelve _couldn't _do it?

* * *

**Fire under my feet- Leona Lewis**

* * *

**A/n**\- Hey guys!

That's a great song btw. #Sarah's-song-recommendation-of-the-month!

So, it's been a month again. ha. ha. ha... I tried okay, I tried to not make it a month, and I promise that once we get past the reapings, monthly updates will be a thing of the past. I don't want to make excuses, so...I won't. Okay? Okay.

But, trust me when I say, updates aren't slow because I don't want to write it, they're slow because I want it to be as good as it possibly can be.

Anyway, I'm actually going out of the country on Monday for two weeks, _and_ I'm not taking my laptop. So, no writing for me! oops. But when I return, I'll try and get right back to it!

* * *

**Questions! **

**Thoughts on each POV?**

**Favourite and Least Favourite? **

**Chart?**

* * *

That is all, byeeee! x


	5. Fear, Reapings: Part 3

**Chapter 5.**

* * *

_"__I don't know what's right and what's real anymore,  
I don't know how I'm meant to feal anymore.  
When do you think it will all become clear?  
Cuz' I'm being taken over by The Fear"_

* * *

**Fear :Reapings, Part 3**

* * *

**Selicia Nookza, 16, District Six Female**

* * *

She sat there looking at the snoring man as he slept soundly, sprawled out across the bed.

She didn't know why she was still there, she should have been on her way to the reapings, but she couldn't bring herself to leave. Something at the back of her mind forced her to stay just a little while longer. It dragged her to stay, pinning her down to the chair of which she sat.

Maybe she was trying to ignore the inevitable. Maybe she wanted to forget the fact that two kids would be sent to their death today. Maybe she didn't want to think about how many slips of paper were in that bowl with her name on it.

All of these thoughts made her dread the reapings. She didn't want to anxiously stand there, waiting for the death sentence to be announced by some over-energetic capitol person. The idea frightened her to the bone. After all it _could _be her. That prospect wasn't an impossibility and she knew, even now, that she wouldn't last a day in the hunger games.

She would crumble. She had to deal with a lot of bullsh*t in her life, but the hunger games were a different story. They were something she couldn't do by herself, sitting quietly in the corner. She had always been such a background person. The hunger games were a game she simply did not know how to play.

Still, staying there, looking down at that vile excuse of a human being, made her sick to the stomach. She couldn't stay. She stood up, ready to leave.

"Going so soon baby?" the man said as he blinked awake.

Selicia turned, rolling her eyes. The man must have been in his late thirties, with a large ginger beard and greasy hair slicked-back into a ponytail. He looked at her with devious eyes, as if she was simply a piece of meat. Then again, in a job like this, that's exactly what you had to become. "I have to go to the reapings," she mumbled.

"Right now?" he said with a slight pout.

Selicia nodded. "If I don't want be whipped to death, then yes."

Usually she wouldn't have spoken so much. She had always been the kind of girl to do what she had to do, and then leave without uttering a word, but she really _did _need to get going. The large antique clock, which ticked annoyingly loud on the wall, only continued to remind her of that fact.

"Oh girl, you'd be whipped to death if they even found out what you were doing. Why not take the risk, hey?" The mere sound of his voice disgusted her, he sounded like a dirty pervert and that was exactly what he was. They all were; every single customer she had ever dealt with, but without them, she wouldn't have a job. It made her almost want to thank them. _Almost. _

She turned around, an angry blush firm on her cheeks, and she walked out of the room. Maybe she would never have him as a customer again, but right now, she was perfectly fine with that prospect. She didn't want to see his vile face ever again. He was a foul, rude man and he didn't have an ounce of decent humanity left in that large body of his.

It was the weight in her pocket which stopped her from leaving the house. The jingling of coins reminded her just how much she needed this money and how much he _actually_ paid her. He was a loyal customer, always paying more than she asked for.

Letting out a deep sigh, she turned around and walked back into the room. His face lit up the moment he saw her again. Without saying a word, she pressed her lips against his, tasting the faint, disgusting taste of tobacco.

Pulling away, she whispered in his ear. "I really do need to go, but I'll see you soon, right?"

The man just nodded in response, seemingly shocked by her sudden actions. When she was convinced enough that he was satisfied, she walked speedily out of the building. She couldn't risk being late- not again.

The moment the cold, autumn air hit her skin, she pulled her cotton jacket tighter around her shoulders, but it did nothing to keep out the cold, she was used to being cold, people like her couldn't afford luxuries such as warm clothes. It was a sad fact, but it had been the same for her since she was a child and it had only grown worse in recent years.

The jog down to the reapings was quiet, lonely, but she liked it like that. It gave her time to think and just enjoy her own company. It didn't happen often, especially living in a hectic orphanage like she did, but when she did have time to herself, she enjoyed just sitting by herself, emerging herself in her own thoughts, and just enjoying the silence.

As she passed by an old, run down alleyway, she heard a small 'meow' and her heart lifted, she turned her head to see a small black cat pawing its way towards her.

"I can't stay now, Sage," she whispered regrettably, before continuing to jog forward, leaving her old cat friend purring behind her.

A thought crossed her mind as she approached the town square. If she was to ever be reaped, her one and only friend wouldn't be able to come and say goodbye to her and that thought worried her. She would be alone in that justice building, with no one to comfort her, and Sage would be out here, in the cold, wondering where her friend was.

She had thoughts like this many times before, it seemed like everyone with the chance of being reaped had wondered what it would be like, but her thoughts had never worried her so much before. It _could _happen and, statistically, the odds were not in her favour. She had taken too much tesserae this year.

She shook her head and forced a small smile on her face, she was being silly now. She couldn't afford to think this way when this year's tributes would be announced in a matter of minutes.

The only trouble was, she couldn't stop asking herself that same, scary question; 'What if?'

* * *

**Winslow Earnest, 17, District Nine Male**

* * *

_'__Just stand there with your chin up, no, look at the ground. Yes, look at the ground; it's a sad, scary day. Boy is it scary. I could be reaped. You don't want to appear happy. Don't speak; just nod, look sympathetic, but serious, and then, we should be good to go.' _

He let out a sigh.

These instructions ran though his mind constantly as he dressed himself for the reapings. They had been running through his mind for days now as if they were on a constant cycle. He wanted to make sure he didn't screw things up like he had so many times before. He just wanted to get through the day, return home, and get back to his business without doing or saying the wrong thing.

That was easier said than done.

He glanced up at himself in the mirror and fixed the collar of his shirt. He looked like a sorry case, his dark, hazel eyes never had that joyful gleam they once had when he was younger, they were full of sadness, regret, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hide his ongoing inner turmoil; his eyes constantly betrayed him. He continued to try anyway, remaining serious, quiet, as if he didn't feel the emotions which ran through him every single day.

All in all, his face was a lie, but a silent, much needed, lie. If he didn't conceal this part of him, the outcome would be catastrophic; he was certain of it.

He took a deep breath in and a deep breath out as he composed himself. Pushing his brunette hair up and out of his face just the way he liked it, he nodded at his reflexion. He could do this. He had done it before and it had never been terribly disastrous. It was just a reaping; an awful, nerve-wracking reaping. _He could do it._

He wandered into the front room, picking up his jacket from the small round coffee table. Their house wasn't much; it was practically a wooden box with three small rooms and minimal furniture. It used to be better. It used to be cosy, warm, a place of happiness, but then...the accident happened.

He glanced down at the floor. The accident never failed to invade his mind. Something would get him thinking about it every waking moment of everyday day. He couldn't escape it if he tried. The images would flash through his mind one at a time, as if he was reliving that dreadful nightmare. The image of flames engulfing the house filled his mind, orange and red bouncing all around him as he ran through the burning ribbons. He could almost feel the heat against his skin again and he could almost hear his mother's panicked screams. It made his head hurt as an ill feeling swept across him, leaving a prickly feeling running up his spine. He hated thinking about it. It only led to a never-ending process of confusion and guilt.

_What really happened that day? _He would never know for sure.

_'__Stop it,' _he thought to himself. _'Stop it.' _

Looking at the boy on the outside, you would have never have guessed what was going on inside his head. His eyes were fixated on the coat in his arms; his mouth was pressed still in a straight, emotionless line, while his eyes darted around the room in angst.

"Good morning, Son," his father said, dragging Winslow momentarily away from his troubles. His father stepped into the room with a forced smile spread across his face.

Winslow glanced up at him and contemplated what to say for a moment. This used to be simple, all he had to say was 'hello' or 'good morning', but now he couldn't trust himself to say the right thing. Finally, he went with a simple, muttered, "good morning."

"Are you ready to go?"

Winslow just nodded his head in response, knowing that would probably be the only communication he would have with his father until he said 'goodnight' to him after dinner.

It was the same every day. They just followed the same boring process day by day. It used to be worse, but in more recent times, his father had made him comfortable enough to say these simple things.

Winslow never really knew how to deal with his father, he found him difficult to speak to. Then again, he found the majority of people difficult to speak to. Their relationship just hadn't been the same since his mother's tragic death. He didn't know what to say to him, he was scared that he would say the wrong thing and lose what little relationship they had together. He didn't want his father to understand why he had changed. He didn't want him to see him in a different light, and he definitely didn't want his father to hate him as much as he hated himself.

But, maybe this would all come out eventually, and that thought worried him more than anything. It probably worried him more than the reapings that were about to happen. What would even happen if it_ was_ him? Would he _die? _Would he even stand a chance?

He hadn't thought about it much, but he liked to think so.

He hoped it wouldn't come to that though. He had enough going on in his mind without adding The Hunger Games to mix.

But life didn't always take that into consideration.

* * *

**Rigger Kendrick, 14, District Three Male**

* * *

Buzzing filled his ear, making him freeze to the spot. The buzz was the annoying kind, the kind you want to immediately swat away with the back of the hand, the kind which could _hurt you; _the kind which could only belong to a monstrous _bee. _

He wanted to gasp out in fear, but instead, he kept his cool. Taking deep breaths to calm himself. _It was okay. He was fine. _

_Don't show fear, don't show fear, it's not cool. _He told himself, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The buzzing only grew louder, sending shivers down his spine, and bringing a sweat to his forehead. People were speaking to him, but it was as if their mouths were on mute, he couldn't hear what they were saying. He was all too focused on the never ending buzzing that was slowly approaching him.

He breathed in, and he breathed out. He could do this. He was a genius; he could do a simple thing such as remaining calm. It was _easy_, right?

Then, he felt something land on his shoulder and all hell broke loose. He jumped up, letting out a shriek, and ducked out of the way. Some of the people around him laughed out loud and a flustered blush appeared across his cheeks. _Oops, _he thought.

"I'm sorry, was that _fly_ going to hurt you?" someone said.

"It was a _bee_," he said, getting quite defensive. "And it made me jump, no big deal." He shrugged his shoulders. It made sense. He wasn't expecting it to land there, it had surprised him. It could have been anything- a bullet for all he knew- it was a perfectly reasonable response.

The other guy just rolled his eyes and went back to his conversation. Rigger let out an exasperated sigh. '_Never mind them, _he thought. _You're brilliant. You're smarter than them, and better than they will ever be'. _A smile came to his face as that thought crossed his mind. It was _so _true.

He turned his back to them and just waited in the line. He didn't need them anyway. He had his own friends who knew just how brilliant he was. He had the district's technology professors who cared for him. Everyone else was just _jealous. _

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to let out a sharp gasp of surprise.

"Sorry," his friend, Greg said, peering over his squared glasses. "Has anything exciting happened yet?"

Rigger smirked, though his hands were still fidgeting from being startled _twice _in the space of _five minutes_. "Well, this has been a thrilling wait in line. Every so often, we take a step forward," he said jokingly; though the joke seemed too forced. Greg may have been the best guy he knew, but Rigger still sucked at making jokes, and just social interaction in general. Not even Greg could change that.

Greg laughed anyway, but his eyes told a different story, a story of uncertainty.

Rigger chose to ignore it. "I don't know why they think this signing in thing is a good idea. I mean, no one else does it."

Greg looked down at him as he continued to straighten his outfit, tightening his tie, and brushing off every grain of dust on his jeans. "Well, the capitol needed to test it out on _someone_. Honestly, who else would be the perfect guinea pig?" he rolled his eyes.

Rigger chuckled. "True that."

District three would always trial and error The Capitol's new products. To them, District Three was seen as the 'smart ones', and _apparently_, they could handle any possible problems they encountered. Usually the products would be things they would never see again after the trial was over, but this time, they were testing out something specifically made _for _them. It would apparently 'enhance the formality of the hunger games' or something.

When they finally got to the front, the woman asked for Rigger's hand. He gave it to her suspiciously. Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed at his finger and he let out a yelp. Yanking his hand a way, a drop of blood dripped from his finger_. She had stabbed him, she had hurt him intentionally. _He felt a lump forming in his throat. _Why did she do that? _

"Next!" the woman in white called.

"Are you okay man?" Greg asked after getting his own finger stabbed by the _woman._

"I guess, are they even legally allowed to do that? Isn't that child abuse?"

Greg laughed again, and this time, it actually seemed like a _genuine _laugh. "We're in District Three, they're peacekeepers, law doesn't apply here."

Rigger just rolled his eyes, mostly because his friend was right and it irked him. Not only because the inequality was wrong, but also because, for a moment, Greg sounded smarter than Rigger. That didn't happen often, but when it did, he felt like digging himself a hole and hiding in it for the rest of his life.

The two boys wordlessly wandered over to the fourteen year old section and they stood in silence whilst the mayor read the treaty of treason. Then the exceptionally young, _and some-what attractive, _escort stepped up to the microphone.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, welcome to this year's reapings. I am delighted to be escorting District Three for the second time and I hope we will have a successful year." The lady forced a smile, as she took a moment to scan the crowd. "Okay, ladies first!"

The woman wandered over to the female's reaping bowls and picked a slip of paper by random.

"Severa Prichina!"

A pretty girl from the sixteen year old section stepped out almost immediately with a '_no nonsense' _look on her face. She marched up to the stage with a look of determination. There was annoyance flashing in her eyes, but she seemed strangely calm and prepared. Rigger had no idea how someone could seem so strong after being practically sentenced to death.

He wouldn't be like that. He'd want to scream and cry. He'd probably try to run away.

"Rigger Kendrick!"

_'__What?'_ he thought. His heart dropped, he looked around at the other people around him. He understood then why people didn't run away very often. He felt like he couldn't move, like every movement was one step closer to his certain death.

"I'm gonna die," he whispered. Then tears filled his eyes, blurring his vision and his hands shook uncontrollably.

He sobbed as he walked up to the stage.

He was so screwed.

* * *

**Jem Hoover, 15, District Eleven Male**

* * *

The scorching heat beamed down onto his face, bringing a sweat back to his forehead, and ever so slightly blurring his vision.

He was tired, his chest was heavy and he felt the constant urge to let out a tremendous yawn, but he smiled through it. After all, _he _was the one who chose to work those long hours. No one pushed him into it, though his brother didn't _really_ give him much of a choice. After he practically divorced the Hoover family, _someone_ had to take his place, but Jem didn't complain. He had learnt a long time ago that he had to just grin and bear it. A job had to be done and he was the one who had to do it.

He'd been working all morning, as per usual, and now he was just waiting for the reapings to start and finish so he could get back to work.

He leant up against the wall, taking sip from his bottled drink.

"Well, isn't this a glorious day," his friend, Art, said sarcastically. The boy grabbed the bottom of his shirt and brought it up to his forehead in an attempt to dab off the beading sweat.

Jem smirked, resisting the urge to just pour the rest of his drink all over himself to cool down. "It could be better."

"Don't be so gloomy!" Art said, throwing his arm around Jem's shoulder. "Enlighten me, dear, how could it be better?"

"For starters, we could be free people, not oppressed by the laws of a dictating president and we could..."

Before Jem could continue with his rant, Art pressed his index finger over his lips, silencing him immediately. "Thank you for that Jem, but ya know, big scary guys in white suits are clonking around. Let's not make them angry."

Jem sighed and nodded his head, taking another swig of water. Jem had always been a passionate boy when it came to his political beliefs. Jem and his family had believed in the rebellion when it was happening, even when he was just a young child. It was difficult to comprehend when the rebels lost. He didn't want to get back to a '_normal' _life of inequality.

The anger he felt only doubled when the hunger games were announced. The Capitol were no longer only domineering, they were evil too.

_Why should they have to 'put up' with this?_

He could keep his mouth shut about a lot of things, one being how over-worked he was, but when it came to the Capitol, he couldn't quite do it. Then again, he was just a fifteen year old boy from District Eleven, what could _he _do other than rant his heart out? Or rather, stifle the rant and just hurt his brain with his ongoing anger.

No one else was stepping up to the plate. Everyone was seemingly resistant to just say _no, _they were too scared of the consequences. In all honestly, so was Jem, but that was mainly because he was just a kid. He had the right to be afraid of the older, stronger people around him.

If a new war was to break out, Jem would be behind it in an instance, just like his family was the last time. He'd _want _to fight, but right now, he just had to deal with it all. Maybe one day, when he was older and more prepared, maybe he would no longer conform to the masses and step up to be heard. There would be consequences, but there was consequences from keeping his mouth shut too.

"We should go," Jem said, standing up off the wall. Art just nodded in agreement and they both got in place for the reapings. It was if they were herded like animals, separated by age and gender, forced to stand there and get ready for some Capitolette to come forward and send two people to fight to the death.

Jem furrowed his brows together and looked at his feet.

The woman who stepped up to the microphone was a small, young lady, with rainbow-like hair and long, fluttering eyelashes. Quite incredibly, she went by the name '_Rainbow'._ Jem couldn't quite work out whether that was her _actual_ name or not, he presumed not.

The woman went on a long spiel about how she truly felt this year was District Elevens year to shine. Jem blanked out after that and thought more about how ridiculous it all was. District Eleven would never _shine_ all they did was just work in the fields, harvesting hay, and whatever else they had to harvest.

Days went by as normal and that's how it would be until someone _forced _a change.

Unfortunately, that person would never be Jem Hoover.

"Our male tribute for The Eighth Hunger Games is...Jem Hoover!"

_F*ck. _

His mind quickly clouded with overwhelming thoughts. He was _going to die. _He was _actually going to die. 'Someone's going to stick a knife in my back and I'm going to bleed out slowly, and painfully'._

He bit his lip and clenched his fists tightly as a chain of curse words ran through his mind. He forced himself to hold his head high as he walked forward to shake his escort's hand. He glanced to his left to where District Eleven's one and only victor was sat, but Eli didn't look back at the boy.

Jem nodded out to the crowd and smiled awkwardly.

Yet again, Jem had a task to do, but this time he didn't know whether or not he could do it, and he knew for sure he wouldn't be able to hold back the complaints and rants which filled his body.

He had to try for safety's sake, but he was already so close to tick. Even as he stood there, waiting to meet his district partner, that microphone called out to him and tempted him to make the biggest mistake of his life.

He shook his head and held back.

_No, not now, not yet._

* * *

**Fear- Lilly Allen**

* * *

**A/n- **Ayyeeee, final reaping chapter! Reapings are the worst, okay? But, in the end, I actually had fun with this chapter. I don't know, some of these tributes are just amusing, or interesting to write. The remaining tributes will have povs in the Goodbyes/Trainrides/Chariots chapters okay? I need to stop saying 'okay'. Um...yeah...It's become my thing I guess.

I'm gonna stop apologising for being late. It's a thing okay. I'm busy. Sorry and I don't know when I'll be updating next, I'm moving to uni in three weeks, but I'll try to update before then. (Emphasis on_ try)_ ;D

* * *

**Questions:**

_**Thoughts on each pov?**_

_**Favourite and Least Favourite?**_

_**Chart, Maybe, Perhaps?**_

* * *

I really appreciate everyone who is reading and reviewing. I love getting these reviews, hearing your opinions etc. Really it's great and I hope my late updates don't make these dwindles pls. After all, reviews are what motivates me and helps me know you're actually liking this so...

Thank you hun buns! Bye!


	6. Forgotten, The Goodbyes

**Chapter 6.**

* * *

"_I keep falling to my knees  
__I know you hear my cry.  
__Would you help me now to see  
__that I'm far from forgotten?"_

* * *

**Forgotten: The Goodbyes**

* * *

**Havara Bhatnagar, 16, District Twelve Female**

* * *

_It just had to be me._

_Out of all the other girls in the district, it just had to be me._

She was having a hard time believing it, and standing on that stage, in front of the entire district, next to an annoyingly handsome guy, made it so much worse. She wanted to hide her face and run away from the attention. She wanted to slide back into her small home and turn invisible once again, but things would surely change now. Havara would be the subject of thousands of eyes. All of Panem will see her face, know her name, and judge her like she was simple a piece of meat. That scared her. She just wanted to run away, but instead, she just stood there, staring blankly out into crowd.

"District Twelve, for one last time, I present you your tributes! Havara Bhatnagar and Kristian Ferals!" Caden, their escort, said, before he ushered them away.

The two tributes were led into the justice building where Caden was quick to get rid of his turquoise wig and fake beard, revealing- what Havara would have considered- 'normal hair' and a clean shaven face. She rose her eyebrow suspiciously as she stared at the back of his head. _This_ was why she had a hard time trusting people. _This _was why she never believed what she saw. Everyone lied these days.

"Why do I feel like I am seeing something I'm not supposed to?" Kristian muttered, leaning down to Havara's ear. Although clearly shaken, and although he seemed to be on the brink of tears, he still owned that smug smirk which Havara had seen her fair share of times. It was pretty difficult to have _not _heard of a guy like Kristian Ferals, especially in a district so small. She was actually one of the many girls who could appreciate Kristian's good looks. After all, it was pretty hard to ignore those _muscles._ The few times she had caught sight of him, a small, shy smile had appeared on her face. Still, that didn't mean she didn't find him highly irritating.

She gave a half-hearted 'get lost' smirk before diverting her eyes again, tapping her foot impatiently. She just wanted time alone now; time to finally see her mother and hug her for one last time.

Caden turned around with an expression as blank as a simple piece of paper. He sauntered over to the kids and, as he did, Havara grew anxious. This was only her first time of meeting Caden, and so far, she wasn't so sure about him. Sure, he was better than most of the eccentric, over-the-top idiots the capitol usually sent, but there was something quite unsettling about this man.

"You-" He pointed to Havara. "In there. You-" He pointed to Kristian, but before Caden had the chance to continue on Kristian nodded his head and clicked his fingers.

"Got it!" he said, and then he walked into his room, slamming the door behind him. Havara the did the same, only with a little _less_ aggression. She didn't want to upset the man who would be showing her off to the world- or _did she?_

Finally, she was alone.

Silence surrounded her and she was suddenly made very aware of her heavy breathing and the quickening thump of her heart.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to drown in her worries, but she couldn't. Her mother would be coming in soon and it would ruin her if she saw her daughter is such a state.

The mere thought of her mother brought Havara emotional pain. She couldn't imagine how she would cope when she was gone, with no one to take care of her, no one to shelter her from the devastating truths. She took a seat, praying that her mother would find a way to pull through on her own.

After a few minutes alone, the door was pushed gently open and her mother walked in. Her face was shallow, her eyes were sunken in and tears had stained her cheeks. She stared at her daughter as she gently shook. Havara just wanted to run forward, wrap her arms around her mother and comfort her, but she didn't. Quite honestly, for the first time in a painfully long time, Havara wanted to _be the one _who was comforted_. _She wanted her mother to come over and hold her in her arms as she sang a song. She wanted that more than ever, but she knew that wouldn't happen.

Instead, Havara just held out her hand to her mother,willing her to take a seat next to her. For a moment, Havara didn't think she would move, she just stood there, staring into space, as if frozen, but finally, her mother came and sat next to her, holding onto her hand.

That simple, gentle touch was enough to calm Havara, it was enough to bring a small smile to her face, but it didn't erase that horror-filled feeling in the pit of the stomach, the one that made her want to burst out into tears.

Silence passed between them until her mother brushed a strand of Havara's hair behind her ear. "My girl," she whispered, choking a sob as she spoke. "Be-be careful."

Havara nodded. "I will," she whispered, and then, her mother began crying.

All Havara could do was hold her, but even then, her time holding and comforting her mother wasn't long enough. It wasn't now that her mother needed her comfort most, it would be when Havara would be lying on the floor, eyes closed, and when the cannon confirms her death to the world. That would be when her mother needs her most, but she wouldn't be there.

Her mother would be all alone in this world, and that was what scared Havara the most. If she made a mistake, if she...died; she wouldn't just be killing herself, she would also be killing her mother.

But there was only so much she could to prevent that outcome from happening.

* * *

**Auberine Simmons, 17, District Eleven Female**

* * *

From the moment her name was announced, she knew this was game over.

She tried to remain calm. She tried to remain positive. She tried to tell herself that she _could _do this, but she was just lying to herself; deluding herself into thinking she _actually _stood a chance. Realistically, her chances were slim, especially now that Districts One and Two were bigger threats than ever. She knew this, but she tried to ignore that thought which was eating away at what little bravery she had.

In these games, there would be danger around every corner, and she couldn't imagine a way of escaping such danger. She wasn't strong. She wasn't heroic. She wasn't anything special. She was just Auberine, a simple harvester girl from District Eleven.

_There was no way._

She wiped her sticky palms off on the bottom of her dress and closed her eyes tightly, trying to calm her mess of a mind. What would she say to her family when they came for her? How could she stand there and convince them she'd be able to win for them? She'd have to find a way to stay positive, but it would be difficult- _too difficult_.

Tears threatened her eyes as her chest grew tight. It was as if someone was pressing against her lungs, squishing them until she had no choice but to gasp for air and cry. It attempted to tear her strength away from her, but she _had to _stay strong. She had _no_ other choice. If she fell victim to her weakness, she was afraid things would only get worse. She really didn't want to die. She _couldn't _let herself die.

People shuffled around outside the door, they spoke in muffled voices as their feat tapped against the solid wood. Auberine stood up, wiping at her eyes and shaking her hands out at the side. She wouldn't cry. She had to stay strong for her family. She had to give them hope for her return. However doubtful she was, she had to _try._

The door opened and her family shuffled in. They looked at her with sympathy in their eyes, as if they didn't know what to say or how to act. Auberine took a step forward, holding her arms out to her family. Her older brother, Clay, quickly stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her in a tight, warm, hug. Her younger siblings soon followed their brother's lead and wrapped their small arms around Auberine's waist.

"Everything will be fine," Clay whispered, smoothing her hair down with the palm of his hand. He pulled away a little and looked at her seriously. "Don't worry about us too much in there. Father and I will sort something out if-"

"Stop it," Auberine whispered, taking a step away from him.

"I'm just saying..."

"I'll be fine, I have to be- okay?"

Clay pursed his lips and slowly nodded his head. "Of course you will."

Auberine sighed and glanced over to their father, who had taken a seat on the couch. His red eyes were still glossy with tears, as if he'd already been crying for hours. A sickly cough escaped his mouth and he held his hand up to his lips to cover it.

"Are you okay, Dad?" she asked, gently removing herself from her younger brothers' arms.

"Isn't it I who should be asking you that?" her father asked, a small smirk appearing on his lips. Her father hadn't been well for a while now, they didn't know what was wrong with him, but he wasn't able to work often, leaving herself and Clay to feed the family. He probably shouldn't have been there at that moment, but she knew he wouldn't have missed saying goodbye to her for anything.

Auberine sat beside him and placed a hand on his back. "I'll be fine, okay Dad? I'll try to win." She smiled softly. "And then we'll have everything we've ever wanted. You won't have to work anymore, we could get you help. It will be great."

Her father looked up at her, his eyes shining with a hint of doubt. The same doubt she felt in the pit of her stomach. She could say what she wanted, but they all knew the likelihood of it happening was small. Only one person would win, and she couldn't count on that one person being her. Everyone knew that, and these words she was just saying, were just words at the end of the day.

"I'll really try," she said again.

Her father nodded. "I know you will."

She wrapped her arms around his neck like she used to when she was a little girl. Her father held her close, kissing the side of her head comfortingly.

Looking over his shoulder, she saw her three younger brothers clinging onto Clay with all their might, Graham, Devon, and Landon. They were all so young, so innocent. They were all struggling to hold back their tears and their worries. She just wanted to scoop them up and calm them down. She wanted them to know that everything would be alright.

She closed her eyes and began to sing. It was the only thing she knew she could do in moments like this and it would comfort her brother's in times of troubles. She sang sweetly, slightly off tune, but nobody cared. Her brother's listened to her and as she sang, and she no longer heard their sniffles.

"_When darkness rolls in again  
__Remind my heart of what is true  
__'Cause my world around may crumble  
__But you'll never leave my side  
__When I can't lift my eyes to heaven  
__You meet me where I run to hide  
__I'm far from forgotten  
__So far from forgotten"_

After that, they stayed in silence until a peacekeeper knocked on the door to tell them their time was up. She helped her father stand and walked over to her brothers.

"Here," Clay said, untying the whistle from around his neck.

He always wore his whistle. He had had it since he was young and he always used it at work to signal other workers. He placed it in her palm wrapping her hand around it. "I don't know whether this will be against the rules, but even if you can just keep it until the launch," he shrugged. "It's just a little bit of me, and a little bit of the district to have with you."

Auberine smiled. "Thank you." She then hugged him one last time before he was snatched away by the peacekeeper. Auberine tried to reach for him again, only to be pushed aside by the man in the suit. He glared at her while her family shuffled back out.

"It's okay," she croaked out. "You're just doing your job, I know."

The man faltered for a moment before bowing his head. Then, he left.

She was alone again.

She sat down, and for the first time, she let the tears flow. Clutching onto her brother's whistle, she cried. She cried until she couldn't cry anymore, until her eyes were dry and she couldn't catch her breath.

She just _cried._

* * *

**Shadow Mars, 18, District Four Male**

* * *

Never before had a door appeared so daunting.

The seconds ticked by into minutes as Shadow sat there, just staring at that large, mahogany door; waiting, but, waiting for whom?

So many people could have walked through that door. His never-ending list of friends, those who follow him, admire him, those whom he holds onto dearly as he lusts for that sense of popularity and importance. His family could enter, his mum and dad, his two older siblings and little Cucan, the bouncy energetic little girl who keeps their family young and fresh.

Then there were the two women in his life; his popular, sexy, girlfriend, and his best friend who he had given so much pain. Only now, a few days after she brought a little shining star into the world, did he realise how wrong he had been to her, and now he may not have the time to put it right.

He knew he would only have time to say goodbye to a handful of the many people he needed to speak to before heading off to his potential death, but he didn't know who.

Finally, a commotion sparked behind the large wooden door, he heard the shuffling of feet and the muttering of lips, before finally the door creaked open.

Stood on the other side, was the girl he was most nervous to see, but the girl he needed to see more than anyone else.

"I only have a few minutes, it seems like you have a fanclub waiting out there," Annie said as she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. She didn't seem the least bit amused by the crowd of people waiting to see him and he felt wrong to smile brightly at that fact, but he couldn't help it; it felt like a gift to him to have so many people waiting to wish him luck and say goodbye. He covered his smile by looking away from her and hiding his face.

Annie's eyes were sunken in and he face was paler than usual, she looked exhausted, and quite honestly, he couldn't blame her.

"Where's Ariel?" he asked.

Annie wandered over to the side of the room and took a seat on the luscious, velvet bench.

"She's at home, my mum is watching over her," she said simply. Shadow nodded glumly. He understood why she wasn't here. After all, she was just a baby, but she was _his _baby, and he felt like he deserved to see her before he died. Maybe in Annie's mind he didn't deserve a lot of things, he'd been an arsehole to her, but Ariel was still _his. _He wanted to see his beautiful little girl again.

He pursed his lips and forced a confident, friendly smile. He didn't want to be so glum, that wasn't who he was. He was a happy guy who loved his life. Somehow, even in the dark days to come, he had to find away to keep that zest for life. Otherwise, he was afraid he'd lose himself.

"So-" Shadow began. He hated how lonely it still felt. Annie may have been here, but the room still felt empty, it wasn't filled with an abundance of people, all wanting to impress him and catch his attention. It was just him and a girl who probably didn't want to be there. "How are you doing, then?" he asked, his voice a bit too 'jumpy' for his likings. He just wanted to wash away the awkward tension stirring in the air with whatever small talk he could muster.

"I'm good, not that you'd give a damn anyway," she muttered.

Shadow grimaced. In all honesty, he probably had that coming, but these were his goodbyes, people were supposed to be here to wish him well and to enjoy the last few moments they could spend with him. He didn't want this brutal hostility from a girl he once considered a friend and a girl who once loved him- even if he didn't love her back.

"Can we not do this right now, please?" he asked.

"If you hadn't have been such a self-centered aresehole then- maybe…"

Shadow narrowed his eyes, this was getting ridiculous. He stood up in annoyance. "Stop, okay, stop. I know, I know I acted like a dick so you don't have to remind me." He then let out a deep, frustrated sigh. "I mean, haven't I been a good father so far? I've been trying."

"It's been a few days," Annie said, standing up also. Her eyes were narrowed into sharp, cut slips; so sharp that they probably had the power to cut right through his skin. "I should go."

Shadow almost let that be. He _almost_ let her leave on the bad terms they had set between them, but looking into the future, he didn't want to be sat in those games, all alone, knowing the one person who could tell his daughter about her dad, disliked him so greatly.

"Wait," he said. She snapped her head around to face him. For the first time in such a long time, he faltered, and he didn't know how to put his thoughts into words. He stumbled over his words for a moment before finally coming out with; "you haven't by any chance seen Fischer, have you?"

Annie rolled her eyes before walking away again. Shadow mentally slapped himself, that wasn't what he wanted to say at all, it was a question he'd been contemplating asking since the moment she stepped into the room, but he hadn't meant to verbalise it. He quickly grabbed her arm.

"Annie," he said. She looked at him with rage-filled eyes. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry, I'm an idiot, and I'll put things right, one way or another, I will, I promise."

There was complete silence for a moment as Shadow desperately waited for Annie to say something in return- _anything_. "Last I saw, she was talking to some boys outside the justice building."

Shadow blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Fischer, last I saw her, she was talking, or rather, she was flirting with some boys outside, sorry," she shrugged. Annie then left without another word.

Shadow frowned. He wanted to hit something hard. He'd made all the wrong decisions in life. He had hurt someone who meant _something_ to him, someone he had known for an awful long time. He had hurt her, he had used her, just for his own enjoyment, and now Ariel would never know her father.

He gritted his teeth together. Not if he could help it. He would win, he would return home, he would make things right once and for all.

He had to.

* * *

**Blake Warren, 18 District Two Male**

* * *

He wished he was there.

As his mother stood in front of him, telling him exactly what his father had told her, Blake could only wish it was his father telling him this. He missed his aura of intent, he missed his passion and determination, he missed it all. But his father was not there, instead he was lying in bed, unable to see his son before the games commenced. Blake was certain his father was dying, he was worried he wouldn't see him again, that he would die before he returned home, but that only made him more determined to volunteer and succeed, it's what he wanted.

Blake was almost a mirrored reflection of his father. He stood up straight, not daring to slouch, his eyes were narrowed, and his large, muscular arms were folded across his chest, as if prepared for business.

"There will be more trained tributes this year, more competition, so be wary of that," she said, continuing his father's 'pep talk'. Her hands shivered as she held his father's written letter, and Blake almost had the urge to take the letter and read it for himself. It would have been easier for all of them, but clearly his father had wanted someone else to tell him these things. So, he went with it, nodding his head in encouragement. As his mother spoke, it was clear she was trying to keep an authoritative tone, but she was failing. She didn't want to do this, she didn't want her son to go into the arena, but there was nothing she could do about it, it was simply too late.

All of this was just old news for Blake, things that had been thrown around their house countless times before, but this was the time it _actually _mattered. There was no turning back now, he had volunteered for the games, and now it was literally a life or death situation.

"I'll make sure they know their place," he said seriously. That was what his father would have wanted him to say, but it had a different affect on his mother, she looked up at him as if shocked; her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open.

Blake shook his head and looked away, feeling quite awkward about the whole ordeal.

At that moment, the door swung open and his sister, Zoe, walked through the door, not caring to knock. A rare smile was spread across her face in pride. "Just think, this'll be me next year."

_No it won't, _Blake thought, a slight feeling of frustration flowing through him. Nothing brought Blake more fear than the thought of Zoe volunteering for the hunger games. She was his little sister, and the games weren't safe. For him, sure, he was ready, nothing could hurt him, but for Zoe- it was a different story.

Still, Blake smiled at her, keeping his mouth firmly shut, and holding back his protest. The simple prospect of volunteering brought her so much joy; he couldn't take that away from her- not yet anyway. His main hope was that seeing him go through the hunger games will in someway change her mind. He hoped it would make her realise just how dangerous it all was.

"Your father is proud of you- you both," His mother finally said, scrunching up the piece of paper in her hand, it was clear that she had every intent of throwing that away as soon as possible. Zoe smirked and raised her eyeline, rolling back her shoulders; this was her way of making sure her family knew how sure of herself she was.

With that, a peacekeeper walked into the room, announcing that they only had a few seconds left to say their goodbyes.

His mother stepped forward at that point and placed a gentle hand on Blake's jaw. Blake pursed his lips uncomfortably, but otherwise did not move a muscle. For a moment, he thought she was about to slap him for making such a 'stupid' decision, but instead, she just kept her hand there. "Be careful," she whispered.

Blake nodded, taking hold of his mother's hand, mainly to remove it from his face. "You know me," he said, forcing a smile on his face. "I'll be fine."

His mother nodded and then they all turned to leave, muttering a final goodbye.

The door clicked behind them as they shuffled out of the room, and with that he was alone.

He had seen everyone he wished to see, and now he just had to wait for his escort to do her job.

When the door opened one more time, Blake froze, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. It wasn't like Maskette, their escort, to walk into a room without making an announcement first.

A man not so much older than himself squeezed in through the door. Blake tensed his jaw, he had never seen that man before in his life. _Why was he here? _

Blake frowned. "Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm Garren- Tamaryn's brother," he said, holding out his hand to him. Blake didn't immediately shake it; instead he just stood there, looking at him quizzically. It wasn't common for the other tribute's relatives to come and see them, especially if they didn't actually know them beforehand. Slowly, and cautiously, Blake shook the other man's hand.

Garren took a step back and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Silence filled the room and Blake only grew more confused with every second that ticked by. "Look kid," he said. "I just came in to say; I want you to protect my sister."

Blake blinked in surprise. "Huh?"

"Just do it. Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid in, got it?" Garren suddenly seemed very defensive and all Blake could seem to do was nod in agreement. He didn't know what he expected to happen today, but this certainly wasn't it. He never expected to be roped into protecting his district partner. After all, these games were a free for all, and he was going to protect himself whatever the cost, but he still couldn't shake that feeling of duty he now had. As Garren left without uttering another word, Blake couldn't help but see himself in Garren's shoes. He'd do anything to protect his own sister, and he could only imagine that he felt the same way about Tamaryn.

He pursed his lips in thought. He was in this to win it, and of course he'd let nothing stand in his way, especially not his district partner, but that didn't mean he couldn't do _something_ to help a fellow brother.

After all, he'd want someone to do the same for him.

* * *

**Far From Forgotten- Britney Christian**

* * *

A/n- I'm not exactly getting any better an updating, am I? In fact, I seem to be getting worse, but hey, boring chapters are out of the way, well, trainrides are kinda boring, but not so bad. I hope this chapter wasn't too boring, I tried to really not fall into the trap of boringness with this chapter. I tried okay.

Anyway, I've moved into uni now, moved in like a month ago actually haha, but things are settled, ish, routines are a thing anyway. I'm still going to be really manic and busy for the next few weeks, but after that, things should be calm, and I should be able to write like there's no tomorrow! yay!

Anyway, usual questions go!

* * *

**Thoughts on each pov? **

**Fave/least fave? **

**If you were reaped, what would hate the most in the lead up? The Reapings, Saying Goodbye to people, Being Paraded around, The training, or the night before? **

* * *

Please review. Reviews= motivation. Who knows, maybe with enough motivation I'll update tomorrow? ;D  
I'm joking, I'm joking, I won't update tomorrow. Nope. But hey, two weeks is realistic, right? ;D

Byee x


	7. A Summary

**Summary.**

_"Now my fear of falling,  
__Is nowhere in me calling,  
__telling me to run while I still can."_

* * *

**A Summary: What Would Have Happened**

* * *

**The Capitol.**

* * *

With District Two separating itself from District One this year. District One was on a mission to create a "showy" alliance. Through watching them in training, they chose Jax and Shadow to become part of their alliance, and then, once the training scores were release, they also chose Kristian, who had surprised them with receiving an 8 in training.

Having been refused from the District One alliance and from the District Two alliance after receiving a pretty average 7 and failing to impress , Coraline joined Severa, and the two of them joined Ella and Gunner who had allied during the first day of training.

Merrick and Rosemary decided to stick together as a District, as did the couple from District Eight. The four of them joined an alliance. Merrick regretted it slightly once the results came out, he had received an 8, whereas the other three did not receive higher than a 5. He had been approached by the District One pair, but refused. He had made a promise to his younger district partner, a promise he would keep. For now.

Jaela, Immanuel and Jem formed a gang of "younger tributes", which had been a common trend for the past couple of games. They knew they couldn't win alone, but maybe with a bit of help, they could stand a chance. Havara also joined later.

Auberine and Amelia were the last alliance formed- just the night before the games. Both had wanted an ally, neither had one, and so their mentors sorted this out for them.

* * *

**Allies.**

* * *

"Career" 1- Ramsey, Cedric, Jax, Shadow, Kristian

Career 2- Tamaryn and Blake

Coraline, Severa, Ella, Gunner

Merrick, Rosemary, Sherwood, Evelynne,

Jaela, Immanuel, Jem, Havara

Auberine and Amelia,

Loners- Selicia, Winslow, Rigger,

* * *

**The Games.**

* * *

Existing high above the clouds and with little room for movement, the arena was not a place for the unbalanced or the clumsy. The tributes were welcomed by a chilly breeze as they found themselves surrounded by blue sky and flocking birds. The sun shone bright down into their eyes, blinding them and they almost could not see their path to the cornucopia. It was something they wished they had never seen. Before them was a single metal path, shaped like a pipe. They had to cross that to reach the cornucopia which existed on an open metal ground. The other option was clear to the other tributes, just beside them was a ladder, leading down to what appeared like a slightly safer route. The rest of the arena was made out of slightly wider planks of metal, easy to run on, but all it needed was a slight shove, and the tribute would fall over the edge. There were three levels; the cornucopia, the middle level and the bottom level. The paths stretched through miles of sky, but that was all there was.

Those who were afraid of heights began to shake as they prepared themselves and the final step of the countdown began.  
Rosemary search for Merrick. Blake searched for Tamaryn, Jaela searched for Jem. As far as they were concerned, they all had to get out of their alive, but they knew they wouldn't.

This arena was a death trap. One fall on they were gone.

They had never been so afraid of falling.

* * *

**Bloodbath.**

* * *

**Jaela Roper, 13 years old, District Ten  
Killed by Arena- Placed 24th **

Jaela had always been a clumsy girl, falling out of trees, falling over logs; she even fell over her feet half the time. When she tried to run to her friends, she slipped on her way to the cornucopia and fell to her immediate death. Her screams sent chills down the tribute's spines.

**Rigger Kendrick, 14 years old, District Three  
Killed by Ramsey Belanger- Placed 23rd**

Rigger was the typical boy from District three in many ways. Like many other District Three tributes of the past, he had been predicted to come last. But he was also so much more than that, or at least, that was what his parents would say. He was still making his way to the cornucopia, when he was decapitated by Ramsey's sword.

**Selicia Nookza, 16 years old, District Six  
Killed by Blake Warren- Placed 22nd **

Slelicia was a quiet one, and thus set out on this death trap alone. She went unnoticed most of the time, especially in the Capitol. Blake would not have killed her if she had not been in the wrong place at the wrong time. With one simple shove to get her out of the way, and to get rid of her completely, Blake sent her flying over the edge.

**Sherwood Decker, 16 years old, District Eight **  
**Killed by Cedric Licott- Placed 21st **

Having a rather large alliance and a seemingly fool-proof plan, both himself and Merrick were confident as they made it to the cornucopia and were collecting their supplies. The two boys were just leaving as Cedric aimed an arrow right at Sherwood's head. Cedric rarely missed a shot and the boy died instantly.

**Coraline Leighton, 16 years old, District Four  
Killed by Cedric Licott- Placed 20th **

Cedric was on a role. Once he killed Sherwood, he swiftly turned his bow and aimed it at the next tribute that caught his eye. This time, it was the girl who had wanted to join him, the girl who wasn't good enough for them. Cedric aimed and fired, he did not kill the girl with the bow, but it did knock her off balance and send her over the edge.

**Jem Hoover, 15 years old, District Eleven  
Killed by Tamaryn, Placed 19th **

If watching his ally die first wasn't bad enough, what came next was scarring for Immanuel. They had left the bloodbath without collecting supplies, watching Jaela fall to her death was enough to scare them away. They climbed down the nearest exit and ran as fast as they could, but it was not fast enough. You see, Tamaryn did not go to cornucopia; she let Blake do the dirty work up with the brave tributes and the other careers. She decided to play dirty and find the runaways. Immanuel turned around and ran away, but Jem was not as lucky. Jem tried to fight back, but finally, Tamaryn was able to push the boy over the side, killing him.

**Havara Bhatnagar, 16 years old, District 12  
Killed by Jax- Placed 18th**

Havara was a sweet soul; she was compassionate, loving, and, strong in her own ways. She was cynical of those she met and overly suspicious. She was not going to have an alliance, but then she met the younger kids and could not say no. She was going to run away from the bloodbath with them after Jaela died, but then she thought about it. In an arena like this one, there wouldn't be many opportunities to find supplies. They needed them now, and so she ran for them. She almost escaped when she bumped into Jax. She tried her best, but he was so much bigger than her. He picked her up and knocked her head hard against the cornucopia's walls.

**Merrick Levaun, 18 years old, District 7  
Killed by Shadow- Placed 17th **

Merrick had just made it back to his two younger allies, his face red with worry and shock after watching Sherwood die before him.

"He's dead," Merrick said. Looking down at his younger tributes, he couldn't help but think how screwed he was. He knew they were stronger than they seemed, but he was still fearful they'd get him killed. He shook his head. "Let's go."

He grabbed onto the ladder and began to climb down. As he got half way, he noticed shadow at the bottom. "Go back up!" he quickly called to his allies. But it was too late for him, for Shadow had sent a spear into his side. The two girls would always remember how his face went as pale as snow as he fell from the ladder, shouting out as he fell to his death.

* * *

**Day 2.**

* * *

**Severa Prichina, 16 years old, District Three  
Killed by Tamaryn- Placed 16th**

Having lost their fourth ally the day before, Severa, Gunner and Ella were trying to stay quiet. They walked through the night and were just setting up camp in the early morning when they realised they had been followed. Gunner noticed Blake and Tamaryn in the distance, their weapons at hand.

"F*ck."

Ella and Gunner quickly collected their supplies and ran. Severa followed, but soon slipped on the ground which had become wet due to a leaking water bottle. She grabbed a hold of the edge just in time and hoisted herself up, but the two careers had already approached the camp. Blake looked down at her and she could have sworn she saw compassion in his eyes. Tamaryn was the one to finish her off, stabbing her right in the chest.

* * *

**Day 3.**

* * *

No Deaths

* * *

**Day 4.**

* * *

**Shadow Mars, 18 years old, District Four  
Killed by Cedric- Placed 15th **

Tensions had been rising in the Career camp which had found comfort in the cornucopia. Cedric did not like their outer-district peers, but Ramsey wanted to stick with her mentor's instructions which told her to pick a large alliance of strong tributes to boost their Capitol reputation, plus, Ramsey got on well with them, especially to Kristian. She trusted them. Maybe she was oblivious to the whole thing, but it was too early to tell and, as far as she was concerned, she did not see a problem with keeping them around a bit longer.

When he couldn't persuade his District partner to kill and split, he turned to Jax who agreed that neither Kristian nor Shadow really benefited them. They attacked during the night, killing Shadow in his sleep. The chaos awoke Ramsey who woke her other ally. She took out her sword and held it threateningly.

"I told you..." Ramsey said viciously. She looked down at Shadow and was taken a-back by the look on his face. It was like something from a horror movie.

The two District partners stared at each other; Ramsey holding out her sword, and Cedric holding his bow at the ready. Cedric was the first to lower his weapon and slowly backed away. "Let's just split then," he said.

Ramsey agreed and retreated with her fellow ally. The alliance had broken earlier than ever before. Now, it was Jax and Cedric, and Kristian and Ramsey. For the first time ever, the career pack was split into three.

**Amelia Lockhart, 16 years old, District Nine  
Killed by Ella Bratton, District Five- Placed 14th**

The two girls were loaded. They had escaped the cornucopia with one weapon and one knife. The two girls also attracted a sponsor early on in the games due to their good looks, and therefore, they were enjoying a meal when Ella and Gunner came across them. Wanting to keep the peace, Auberine offered them food, to which they agreed, much to the distaste of Amelia, but with a simple look between the two allies, they knew this wasn't going to be a peaceful meal. They sat and ate. Gunner spoke quite a lot with the two girls, joking and laughing, but there was also that blunt and callous side to him which was what made Ella want him as an ally from the beginning. The other two came along the way, but she was not necessarily found of either of them. Ella, however, remained silent.

That was until Gunner stood. "We best be on our way. Thanks for the meal."

Ella looked up at him, and he gave a small nod. Then, Ella suddenly jumped at Amelia and with one shove, pushed her over the edge. Auberine shouted out, but there was nothing she could do, she reached for her knife, but her arm was met with Gunner's sword which cut into her skin, forcing her to retreat.

Ella picked up the girl's supplies, courteously leaving the knife. "Thanks again," Ella said, taking a bite out of the apple, they then walked away, Gunner keeping a watchful eye on the other girl.

Winslow had witnessed the death of **his** District partner, Amelia. He was on the level above and had planned on stealing their food that night. After a few hours had passed and Auberine had not moved, Winslow jumped down, being careful of where he placed his feet.

"Erm..." He began.

Auberine looked up with fear and distrust in her eyes. She reached for the knife. "No. Um, Amelia, she was from my district."

Her distrust quickly turned to sadness. "What does it matter?" she said and for the first time in her life, her voice was bitter. In the hours after her ally's death, she had had time to think. She decided she needed a big attitude change if she stood any chance of winning. She swore under her breath and just went for it.

Winslow tried to push her off him, keeping both her and the knife at bay. He managed to punch her in the face, making her fall to the ground with a bust lip, blood pooling down her chin. He took a step away. Then another step, making sure she did not move. He then turned and ran.

* * *

**Day 5.**

* * *

No deaths

* * *

**Day 6.**

* * *

**Cedric Licott, 18 years old, District One  
Killed by Ramsey Belanger, District One- Placed 13th**

It only took two days for the two broken career couples to meet again. After all, careers never strolled too far from the cornucopia. Ramsey and Kristian weren't even aware of their presence until an arrow flew in their direction, narrowly missing Ramsey's face. They looked up from the cornucopia and dropped their newly restocked packs, taking out their weapons.  
Cedric fired again, but Kristian was able to dodge.

He leant over to his ally and whispered. "You go around and take shooty, I'll take big guy."

Ramsey nodded. "Deal."

And that was what happened. Their plan worked. Ramsey was able to kill her district partner, leaving the fight with only a bruised eye and Kristian was able to fight of Jax and push him over the edge without injury.

Ramsey looked down at her district partner's body and sighed heavily. She felt a pang of guilt in her heart. She had wanted to remain loyal to her district, but that could not have happened. Circumstances lead to betrayal and inner-district killing, which had always been frowned upon, especially in the upper districts.

**Jax Castell, 18 years old, District Five  
Killed by Kristian Ferals, District Twelve- Placed 12th**

Killing was a difficult one for Kristian. He had not been trained. He had never had the desire to kill. But fate (and a score of 8 in training) had landed him in the big alliance, friendships formed, survival instincts kicked in, and here he was having killed for the first time.

As Ramsey walked back over to him, he lamely held up his hand for a high five, which she half-heartedly gave.

He sighed and sat on the ground. This was the hunger games. It was not supposed to be easy.

* * *

**Day 7.**

* * *

**Evelynne Russo, Fifteen years old, District Eight  
Killed by Auberine Simmons, District Eleven- Placed 11th **

Auberine was on a mission, she needed her food back and she would do whatever it took to take back what was hers and to get revenge. She had suddenly become an angry soul, a soul that knew she had to kill. And instead of trying to just live it out and going with the flow, killing as little as possible- which had been her original plan- she planned on doing it the way the Capitol had intended- by killing.

That was, until she came across Evelynne and Rosemary; two younger girls she had seen in the Capitol. Her heart broke at the sight of them. She was about to turn away and go a different route when she heard one of the girls address her.

"Who are you?" a shaky voice said.

Auberine turned on her heal. The two girls looked angry, and one girl was holding out a small pocket knife in defence.

Auberine shook her head. "I'm not looking to fight."

The girls looked at each other; both seemed hesitant and unsure of what to do. "I'll leave you too it."

Then, a knife flew past her and Auberine narrowed her eyes. _Everytime she tried to be nice! _

She turned around and ran forward with her knife in hand. She heard the girls gasp, but ignored it. She shoved the smaller girl, Evelynne, and angry tears formed in her eyes. "Why? Huh? Why? Every time I try to be nice, someone tries to kill me!" she was crying now.

"Stop," the other girl cried.

But, it was too late. Auberine hadn't meant to kill her. She hadn't realised how close they were to edge, but the girl lost her footing and fell. Auberine's eyes widened and tried to reach out to her, but she couldn't do anything.

She looked back at the other girl. "I'm sorry, I didn't..." But the younger girl just shook in fear before she took off in a sprint.

The sound of that girls screams would haunt her dreams for then on.

* * *

**Day 8.**

* * *

**Gunner Fourier, 18 years old, District Ten  
Killed by Blake Warren, District Two- Placed 10th **

Ella was playing with a knife as Gunner wittered on about something, she wasn't really paying attention. She just wanted to get out of there. She sighed as looked around. They were on the bottom level, the cornucopia was on the top, and the majority of the tributes were on the second.

She stood up. "We should move."

Gunner raised his brow. "And why would we want to do that?"

Ella rolled her eyes. "We've been here for over a week. I just want to go home."

Gunner sighed and stood up. "Ok then, let's go kill some innocent kids. Yay." He said sarcastically.

Ella shot him a deadly look. "Don't say that."

"Now that sounds like fun." Tamaryn and Blake jumped down the ladder, landing beside them. Both of their faces were blank and tired. Ella thought that maybe, they had the same mind set as her. That they just wanted to get this over with.

Blake attacked, swinging his weapon towards Gunner. Gunner blocked the first two swings, but it was the third swing that got him, right in the side of the head. He died instantly.

**Tamaryn Alfrod, 17 years old, District Two  
Killed by Ella Bratton, District Five- Placed 9th**

Meanwhile, Tamaryn had attacked Ella, managing to slice the top of her arm. However, Ella saw an opportunity, an open window, and she ducked under Tamaryn's blade, stabbing her in the side as she ran. Blake turned in an attempt to get Ella, but he was too far away. Instead, he caught Tamaryn as she collapsed in pain, stopping her from falling over the edge. He stayed with her until she died.

Ella was deeply saddened by the death of her ally, but she chose to not let it show. She did her best to hide all emotion from her face and she left her tears for the pillow. She was determined to win, she wanted to go home. That had been her plan from the beginning and that would be the plan till the end.

* * *

**Day 9.**

* * *

**Immanuel Guilermo, 13 years old, District Six  
Killed by Rosemary Valencia, District Seven- Placed 8th **

Rosemary was running. She had seen Ramsey and the boy from twelve in the distance, and it had frightened her. They were long gone by now, but that did not stop her from running. She ran until she almost slammed right into Immanuel, the boy from district six. She swore.

Rosemary smiled softly. "Um...hi."

"Hey," Immanuel said, his voice full of confusion.

Then, on seeing the knife in the girl's hand, he attacked, pushing her to the ground. She screamed in fear, but then thought back to what Merrick showed her in training. She kicked him in the stomach and pushed out. Once free, she elbowed him as hard as she could in the back. He fell to the ground. She was about to leave him there when she had a sudden realisation; they were in the final eight, she could not afford to just let people go. She turned around and quickly stabbed him in the back, letting out a cry as she did.

**Winslow Earnest, 17 years old, District Nine  
Killed by Kristain Ferals, District Twelve- Placed 7th**

Winslow had been watching the careers. He waited until they left the cornucopia to sneak up and grab some food. He was starving. His plan was to wait till he heard a cannon sound and then leave before they returned. The careers never returned without a kill. Then again, only one of these tributes was a career. However, today was not like other days, the two tributes returned within minutes of leaving and caught Winslow unaware.

Kristian walked up to the boy from behind and decapitated him. He looked away as the blood splattered across his face.

Ramsey looked at him with concerned eyes. She knew he wasn't the killing type, he wasn't a career. He didn't even hold the sword right. "You ok?"

Kristian nodded with pursed lips. "Never better." His voice quivered as he spoke.

* * *

**Day 10.**

* * *

**Auberine Simmons, 17 years old, District Eleven  
Killed by Ella Bratton, District Five- Placed 6th**

Auberine had come into these games a gentle soul who only wished for peace. She then learnt what she had to do to win. She had changed a lot in the games. She wasn't the girl who was reaped form District Eleven. That girl was long gone.

It was only a matter of times before herself and Ella met again. At this point, the game makers had begun to make the arena smaller in size to bring tributes closer together. The fight was quite even. Although Ella had been seen as the stronger tribute before, Auberine had a new attitude and was determined. The fought tooth and nail, until Ella was able to stab Auberine in the chest and shove her off the edge.

In the end, Ella was covered in blood and was out of breath.

* * *

**Day 11.**

* * *

**Blake Warren, 18 years old, District Two  
Killed by Ramsey Belanger and Kristian Ferals, District One- Placed 5th **

Blake made it up to the cornucopia. He was out numbered, which he did not like, but he had to face the other remaining career and her little side kick at some point.

Blake had long forgotten the honour of victorship and now, all he wanted was to survive. He did not care for the money or the fame; honestly he barely cared for his father's wishes. He just wanted to see his father again- if he was still alive.

He regretted volunteering, he regretted it with every inch of his soul, but he could not change the past; he could only make the future. He went with the surprise technique for the two tributes, but it was not surprising enough. Although he managed to injure Kristian, Ramsey was quick to defend, she stabbed him in the side, forcing him to back away. Then, he was fighting two tributes at once. He was stronger than both individually, but together, they over powered him.

In the end, he was just another dead tribute, lying on the battlefields of the cornucopia like those who died there the first day. Maybe they had the right idea. Why fight for eleven days when you would only end in the same place with the same fate?

The other two tributes were soon led to the cornucopia as game makers continued to change the paths and continued to take away plates. As Rosemary stared at her three components, she gulped audibly. Stood at the mouth of the cornucopia, were Kristian and Ramsey. Kristian hadn't scared her much before, but stood next to a career, it was quite unnerving. Then, there was Ella, and the sight of her was enough to frighten anyone. She was covered in blood and her eyes were wide and ready as she clutched onto her weapon

It seemed that Ella had decided to take her chances with the smaller girl because, before she knew it, the blood stained girl was charging towards her.

* * *

**Finale (Day 11).**

* * *

**Rosemary Valencia, 15 years old, District Seven  
Killed by Ella Bratton, Five- Placed 4th**

She didn't stand a chance really. She didn't even know how she had made it so far into the games. The young girl was easily over powered and was killed when Ella stabbed her right in the stomach.

**Kristian Ferals, 17 years old, District Twelve  
Killed by Ramsey Belanger, District One- Placed 3rd**

Nobody really saw what was coming next, not even Ramsey herself, but she knew she had to kill him when he least expected it. She could have taken him in a fair fight, but she really did not want it to be left down to the two of them at the end. It was better this way.

Kristian did not even have a chance to fight back. In one quick motion, she turned and stabbed him through the chest.

As she did, she let out a sob. "I'm sorry." He looked up at her in shock and tried to reach out to her, but she just let him fall. She let out one more sob before she pulled herself together and turned to look at Ella.

"I thought you b*tches were supposed to be emotionless," she said.

Ramsey brushed away her tears. "Not emotionless, just prepared."

And thus, the real fighting commenced. Despite the fact that Ella had a significantly lower training score, she put up an excellent fight which challenged Ramsey. Metal clanged on metal. Each tribute was able to make significant damage to other, and soon, Ramsey was disarmed.

She threw herself at Ella, knowing she'd have a better fighting technique than her. And, although Ella had the knife, Ramsey found herself on top, she was bleeding from her side, from her shoulder, from her thigh and from a gaping hole in her cheek, and Ella wasn't much better. The two girls were a mess of red sticky blood.

Ella pushed up in an attempt to stab Ramsey, but Ramsey blocked her and pushed with all her strength, bringing the knife towards Ella's neck until finally, she was able to draw one long line across her throat, killing the girl.

**Ella Bratton, 17 years old, District Five  
Killed by Ramsey Belanger, District One- Placed 2nd**

**Ramsey Belanger,18 years old District One  
****Victor**

Ramsey stood but immediately fell to her knees again in pain, and then, she cried, she cried out all of the emotion she had been harbouring for the last eleven days. She cried until she was taken back to the capitol, back to safety, and then finally back to her family.

Ramsey joined the mentoring team alongside Leonard and found peace in her home in the victor village. She was one of the most –loved victors of the games until her death sixty years later.

She spent the rest of her years terrified of heights and with a great fear of falling.

Luckily, she never fell again.

* * *

**Fear of Falling- Katherine Jenkins  
**

* * *

**A/N:**

So, why did I bother writing this like one and half years later? Who knows. But I enjoyed it. Admittedly, this is different to what I had originally planned, but that's because I hadn't had it planned very well and I don't remember my reasonings behind half of the ideas I had. So for example, I think my original victor was Kristian, but I don't know how or why. Ramsey was always a candidate for it as well though and I am quite happy with my lil victor.

There were certain things that had always been planned out though. For example, having the first death be through falling, having Merrick die on the first day, Having Ella and Gunner in an alliance. Like, I'm pretty sure the only tribute who placed more than 3 spaces away from where they originally would have is Havara. I had plans for her originally, but I don't remember, so alas.

If you are still around please feel free to leave a **review **I'd appreciate it :*.

As for the future, I am back. My mental health which was a problem is much better now, and writing has become something that helps again rather than something that overwhelms me. And so I will have a new SYOT out shortly, keep your eyes peeled for that, because I will definitely finish that one this time xD

Thank you, and adios.


End file.
